


Fallen Valkyrie

by Star_trekkin_across_theuniverse



Series: Fallen Valkyrie [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:23:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 82,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1487917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_trekkin_across_theuniverse/pseuds/Star_trekkin_across_theuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Valkyries were the shieldmaidens of Valhalla, leading the glorious dead into the meadhall of the afterlife. So long as she remain pure, the Valkyrie remains invulnerable and immortal. Eira Sigbjornsdottir is a powerful healer with a secret. And then she catches the eye of the crown prince of Asgard. Pre-Thor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a night like so many others in Asgard, of feasting, and drinking, and celebration. The princes and their companions had returned, victorious, from a skirmish in one of the outer realms. No one other than the warriors ever really paid much attention to where, just that the palace was being opened and the mead would be flowing freely. For those who didn’t find the lure of battle so compelling, the celebrations always were compelling in their own right. It was a chance for all of Asgard to glimpse the royalty, and sometimes even rub elbows with them.

While Fandral was the most likely to spend time amongst the common Aesir, Thor was the prince most likely to greet them. He always spent an earlier portion of the evening spending time with the soldiers who were out celebrating. It was there that he met Eira, the sister of one of the shieldmen who was lost in the battle. 

“You are Jarni’s sister, are you not, Eira?” He held her hand steadily. She nodded and dipped her head. Thor noticed that her hands were rough and callused, which confused him. Jarni was not a commoner, but the son of a nobleman. His sister should have been leading a life of leisure, not one that would leave her hands hardened by work.

“Yes, Highness.” She couldn’t make eye contact. Eira’s father had been a great warrior as well, and gone to Valhalla while she was still young. Her mother had raised Jarni and her on a small estate granted her as a widow by the Allfather himself. As a result, Eira had only been to the palace a few times, preferring to stay away from court, and instead honing her healing skill when not busy with her other obligations. She was uncomfortable meeting the crown prince.

“I am sure you must be saddened by your brother’s death, Eira Sigbjornsdottir. Jarni was the bravest among us, and I can assure you he feasts in Valhalla tonight.” He squeezed her hand. She nodded again, tears springing unbidden to her eyes.

“Yes, Highness. I know he shares great stories of battle with our father tonight.” She agreed, finally looking at the prince. His smile was compassionate and yet she could see that he didn’t truly understand the pain of her loss. He truly believed that she should feel joyous that her brother’s death had been valorous enough to warrant eternity in Valhalla’s halls. He saw her tears, threatening to overflow her lashes, and impulsively pulled her into his arms. He rubbed her back.

“There now, ástin mín. Do not shed tears, but be strong.” His words were soft, and Eira stiffened at the endearment. She pulled away and dashed her tears with the back of her hand.

“I have strength aplenty, Highness. But the loss of Jarni is fresh and even a Valkyrie might morn the death of a beloved brother.” She was stiff and formal, bowing and excusing herself from his presence. Thor tilted his head thoughtfully as she wove through the crowd. Her copper hair was loosely braided and tied carelessly with a frayed strip of green linen. Her figure was trim, draped in layers of soft, worn linen. She had clearly not taken time with her appearance before coming to the festivities, and while grief could be counted for some of her carelessness, Thor was intrigued. Even Sif took efforts with her appearance when it was time to celebrate. He turned to Fandral.

“What do you know of Jarni’s sister, Fandral?” He interrupted Fandral, who was flirting with two blonde girls. Fandral smirked.

“Jarni said she was a healer. Said once that she could raise the dead, if she had the mind to.” He offered with a laugh.

“It is no small wonder that she is so distraught by the loss of her brother then.” Thor murmured to himself. Sif sauntered over, a mug of ale in her hand. Following Thor’s gaze, she shook her head.

“Watch that one, Thor. She will lead you to your death.” Sif advised. Thor turned sharply.

“What mean you, Sif?” He demanded. Sif’s eyes widened at his tone.

“A woman who cares not of her appearance? I’ve never met one. If she is as comely from the front as she is from behind, she will lead you on a merry chase, and you will be none the better for it.” Sif explained with haste.

“But you said she will lead me to my death.”

“A figure of speech.” Sif clarified.

“Are you sure? Her hands, they were rough, like yours. Her gait is not ladylike. Her carriage is strong. She could be a shieldmaiden.” Thor was deep in thought. Sif looked at his tankard.

“Your tankard is empty, Thor. I will fetch you more mead. You need not concern yourself with Eira Sigbjornsdottir tonight.” Sif took the tankard and headed to the mead cask to refill it. She prayed Eira would make herself scarce for the rest of the night. While she was waiting to fill Thor’s tankard, she saw Loki, and waved him over. He rolled his eyes and joined her.

“Have you really stooped so low as to become Thor’s mead wench, Sif?” Loki gave a pointed look to the tankard in Sif’s hand.

“Your brother would be better in his cups tonight. He is pondering a woman.”

“Your jealousy knows no bounds, Sif.” Loki snorted. Sif flushed and squared her shoulders.

“Do not speak of what you do not understand, Loki. We’ve all heard the tales Jarni told of his sister, Eira.”

“The healer.” Loki prompted.

“The healer. Jarni swears had she been present when her father died, she could have healed him.”

“She is talented then.” Loki shrugged.

“She would have been a child. And yet Jarni insisted she would have been able to heal their father. Do you remember Sigbjorn? Do you recall how he died?” Sif’s questions were pointed. 

“If I recall correctly, his head was separated from his shoulders. Not something a healer could mend.” Loki nodded in recollection.

“No. Not something a healer could mend. But Jarni was certain. Said he’d seen her heal worse.”

“We both know that is not possible, Sif. It is commendable that he have such blind faith in his sister’s abilities, but I cannot even fathom an injury worse than decapitation. Such wounds cannot be healed.”

“A Valkyrie can raise the dead.” Sif was blunt. Loki burst out laughing.

“You think Eira Sigbjornsdottir is a Valkyrie? Are you mad?” Loki’s laughter was filled with mirth, which relieved Sif. He could have been scornful, but seemed genuinely amused instead. When he laughed, the tension lines that seemed to always be present were replaced by laughter creases, and he looked younger, and carefree, she thought.

“I’m sorry. Have you a list of all the Valkyries, Loki? Perhaps we could check?” Sif raised an eyebrow in challenge. Loki settled himself, barely.

“You know I have not. Sif, you know Thor’s eye is prone to admiring a pretty girl. Perhaps you are reaching? I know you bear feelings for my brother.” His words weren’t intended to insult her, but Sif felt slighted just the same. She refilled Thor’s tankard and restrained from rolling her eyes.

“Let us not discuss my feelings. There is something about Eira that makes me nervous.”

“That red hair and pretty figure would make me nervous too, were I in your shoes. Fret not, Sif, Thor’s dalliances never last long.” Loki glanced across the room and saw something that interested him more than soothing Sif’s wounded heart. He walked away without another word. Sif set her jaw and glared at his retreating back. She stormed back to Thor, and thrust the tankard into his hand with such force that it sloshed over the top of the mug. She then retreated to the balcony to fume in private.

***

“—There is something about Eira that makes me nervous.” Eira overheard Sif speaking. She ducked behind the mead casks, trying to avoid notice.

“That red hair and pretty figure would make me nervous too, were I in your shoes. Fret not, Sif, Thor’s dalliances never last long.” Eira tried not to gasp as a male voice she couldn’t identify tried to reassure Sif.

Eira stood frozen in place; still pressed to the wall behind the mead casks, heat rushing into her cheeks. Mortification. Utter, sheer mortification. The mere thought that the crown prince might find her attractive was terrifying in the extreme. She struggled to catch her breath. She wracked her brain for what might have attracted him. She hadn’t bothered taking pains with her dress for the celebration. She deliberately chose a worn tunic and hangarok, and hadn’t even combed her hair, preferring to leave it in the loose braid she favoured while working.

She forced herself to move from the alcove behind the mead casks and head toward the doors. There were sick back on her mother’s estate that needed tending. She glanced over her shoulder as she darted through the doors and slammed into someone. She raised a hand to steady him.

“My apologies. I was not watching in my haste.” She excused herself and tried to dart around the tall figure. His hand reached out and grasped her shoulder, stopping her. She turned to face the man she’d nearly bowled over. He was as tall as the crown prince, but narrower through the shoulders. His dark hair accentuated the pale cast of his skin. As she met his eyes, she noticed that they changed from blue to green. Her own eyes widened in recognition and she tried to pull herself free from his grasp to curtsey.

“Highness!” She breathed in apology. She couldn’t quite get free from the hold he had on her, but she tried to curtsey regardless. He raised an eyebrow.

“Eira Sigbjornsdottir, I presume?” His voice was smooth and low. It was the voice of the man who had been speaking to Lady Sif. She felt her face colour in embarrassment.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Eira fixed her gaze on the floor, refusing to meet the scrutiny of his eyes.

“Please. I am Loki.” His free hand took her chin and tipped it up so she was forced to look at him. He tilted his head as he inspected her face. Her jaw was strong, her cheeks high and coloured quite pink at the moment, which set off her hazel eyes, making them appear more brown than green. A few loose strands of hair swept across her forehead, accenting the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and cheeks. He smiled. She was intriguing; he could understand what Thor was distracted by.

“Of course, Highne—I mean, Loki.” She flinched at the error, and averted her eyes. Loki dropped his hand from her face.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable, Eira. I apologize,” He offered, “and for your brother as well. I am sorry for your loss. Jarni spoke highly of you, you must have had a close relationship.”

“I should have been there.” She sounded defeated, and something very like sympathy tugged at Loki’s chest.

“You couldn’t have saved him, Eira. He died gloriously, like your father did.” Loki didn’t want to be crass and come right out and say Jarni’s death had eerily mimicked his father’s, but Eira seemed smart, and deserved to know that she wouldn’t have been any help.

“I could have comforted him.” She shook her head.

“It was over in an instant, Eira.” His voice was soft, and he allowed his hand to run down her arm. He was startled by his response to her. Was this what Thor had felt? Like he needed to comfort and protect her? No wonder Sif was uneasy. Normal women didn’t elicit responses like this unprompted, not from him. It felt almost as though there was some sort of magic woven into her grief. He allowed his own magic to unfurl from his fingers, and probe Eira’s aura. She was unreadable, but undeniably powerful. Her eyes snapped back to meet his, as though she knew what he was doing.

“I could have been a comfort to him.” She insisted. Loki relaxed. She hadn’t caught him using his magic to look deeper into her.

“How?” Loki was curious. Eira sighed.

“I could have brought him home.” Her voice was quiet. Defeated.

“He’s gone to Valhalla, Eira.” Loki tried to be gentle, but Eira was either simple or mad with grief.

“I know.” With that enigmatic response, Eira turned and escaped the hall. Loki stood pondering her rejoinder for a few minutes as she disappeared down the dark corridor leading outdoor.


	2. Chapter 2

Eira stood at the bedside of a small boy. He’d fallen from the back of a dog while playing warriors with his friends. The injury to his head was closed, and Eira was concerned he wouldn’t rouse. She ran her hand across his forehead, smoothing his soft hair back.

“Sweet boy, you are too young for Valhalla’s halls.” She whispered. She let her hand rest on his forehead and allowed the rush of magic to flow between them, reaching and feeling for what had harmed him. She nodded in acknowledgement as a vision of the swelling in his head crossed her vision. She withdrew her hand and looked toward the boy’s mother, who was seated on the opposite side of the bed.

“He will wake on the morrow. And he will be fine and strong.” Eira reassured her.

“May Odin bless you, Eira.” The mother rounded the bed and threw her arms around Eira. Eira disengaged herself and smiled, taking the small woman’s hands in her own.

“Odin has blessed me, Yrsa. This is just one of many gifts from him.” Her words were a gentle admonishment. Eira had been gifted her talents, all of them, by Odin as a small child, before her father was gone. She’d chosen to willingly cultivate her gift for healing, and avoid the other gifts as much as she was able. She excused herself to check on the other sick that were in her care.

When her morning tasks were completely, Eira took a few moments for lunch in the sunny courtyard at the centre of her mother’s estate. She perched on the ledge of the fountain, knees drawn to her chest, and made quick work of the meats and cheese her mother had prepared for her. The afternoon was threatening to be hot; already Eira was damp with perspiration. She slipped her shoes off and turned to dip her feet in the fountain. With her dress drawn up to her knees, she stood and splashed through the water, enjoying a moment of carefree abandon. She drew up quickly behind the fountain, dropping her skirts into the water when she heard male voices entering the courtyard.

“Eira usually lunches at the fountain.” She heard her mother say. She frantically scrambled to get out of the water before being caught in her childlike pleasure. She slipped out of the fountain on the far side of the garden, dripping on the cobblestones. The footsteps drew nearer, and Eira realized her shoes were still sitting on the other side of the fountain, with her abandoned lunch.

“Eira? You have visitors.” Her mother called. Eira peered around the statue in the centre of the fountain and her heart fell. It was the princes of Asgard. She curtseyed where she stood, then made her way around the fountain. They were standing right where she’d left her belongings. Loki was looking at the bottom foot of her dress with amusement. The mischievous gleam in his eye told her he knew exactly what she’d been up to. She fought back the flush of embarrassment.

“Highnesses. What a surprise! Whatever brings you all this way?” She asked and then blanched, “Is someone ill? Have you need of a healer?” Odin had often called her to court to see to the sick in the city. Thor shook his head.

“Nothing so dire, Lady Eira. Father bid us deliver the weregild for Jarni’s life, as it was lost in my service.” Thor explained. Eira’s stomach knotted.

“Oh. But it should be given to Mother. What need had you to see me?” She was confused. Loki stepped forward and held out a letter, sealed with Odin’s mark.

“He also bid us bring this to you. He said it was of utmost importance.” Loki held the envelope until Eira took it. She looked at it, and frozen, suspecting what was contained within. They both stood expectantly, as though they were waiting for her to open it. 

“The king would have your response, Eira love.” Her mother prompted. Eira started, and broke the seal.

Eira Sigbjornsdottir,   
While the compassionate care you give the sick of Asgard is commendable, you neglect your other duties. They are numbered twelve, and having one who only serves when the whim strikes cannot stand. Ensure your distaste for your destined task does not make you disregard your duty.  
Odin Allfather

Eira drew in a breath and closed her eyes against the anger she felt brewing.

“Please tell the king that I have received his message and have taken his council.” Eira bit out the words. She stalked out of the courtyard, forgetting her shoes and abandoning the remains of her lunch. She found herself in the great hall, standing in front of the fire. She lost herself watching the flames dance, and impulsively threw the letter in. Flames licked up the parchment, consuming the note quickly. Someone cleared their throat behind her and she spun, and immediately dropped into a deep curtsey. It was Thor.

“Highness, it seems you always catch me unaware.”

“Lady Eira, my father’s words have obviously distressed you.” He started.

“It is nothing. A reminder of my duty.” Her response was curt.

“We have but just met, Lady Eira. You do not strike me as a woman who neglects her duty. You spend all your time here.” Thor’s statement was a question.

“It is not these duties to which your father refers. I have others.” Eira was deliberately vague. Thor nodded.

“I would get to know you, Lady Eira.” He was still intrigued by her indifference. He was used to women casting aside all that was dear to them to be in his presence. It was tiring, not knowing if the people around you were there merely to gain favour, or because they actually enjoyed you. 

Eira was taken aback. And oddly flattered.

“I am at your leisure, Your Highness.” Eira dipped her head, “When duty permits, of course.” 

“Of course. I will ride out again tomorrow.” He agreed, “If duty permits.”

“I look forward to it, Your Highness.” Eira agreed. She was careful to maintain courteous communication. Thor had not asked her to be as informal as Loki had. She escorted the prince to the drive in front of her home, where Loki waited with their horses. Loki approached as Thor mounted his horse.

“Your feet are still bare, Eira. Father’s letter must have rattled you to make you forget something so important.” He teased. Eira blushed and looked down at her feet. They were covered in dust and dirt, as was the damp hem of her dress.

“You have found me out, Loki. I am not quite so worthy a subject as to blindly accept the commands of my king without a little temper.” She admitted. Loki laughed.

“I know that feeling well, Eira. Fret not, I am sure you are capable of whatever tasks the Allfather has commanded.”

“A little too capable, Loki.” She admitted with a rueful smile. He laughed again.

“A healer can’t possibly get into that much trouble.” His smile was infectious, and Eira felt that maybe her duty wasn’t an insurmountable undertaking. Thor directed his horse toward them.

“Loki, father will be awaiting our return. And glory awaits us in Midgard!” Thor’s horse became skittish as it approached Loki and Eira. Loki bowed begrudgingly to Eira, while stepping between her and the horse.

“Until we meet again, Eira.” Loki stepped up into his saddle and the brothers departed. Eira sighed heavily and headed into the house. Her mother met her at the door.

“I have been warning you for ages that you cannot avoid your duty, Eira. And now the Allfather has noted your absence on the warfield.” Halla was not normally the type to gloat, but this felt very much like gloating to Eira.

“Yes, mother. You certainly told me. If you will excuse me, I have armour to repair.” Eira brushed past her, heading to her bedroom.

“Eira, you were born to this. It is an honour!” Her mother called after her. Eira spun around and stopped, face reddening with anger.

“You wouldn’t say that if you were choosing the dead, mother. If you were the one taking sons from their mothers, brothers from their sisters, husbands from wives, fathers from children. It doesn’t feel like an honour to carry the dead to Valhalla, when I know I can heal them!” Eira cried. Halla’s shoulders slumped.

“You are right. I do not know. But Odin chose you before any of us knew of your incredible gift for healing. And so you must be both. Eira, child, you are only a Valkyrie until you marry; it is the calling of a maiden. Fulfill your obligation, then settle, have babies, and focus on healing then.” Halla reached out to comfort her daughter, but Eira jerked away.

“Not until I marry. Until I am no longer a maiden. Those are very different things.” Eira snapped before stalking down the hallway. Halla sighed, hoping that her daughter wouldn’t bring dishonour on their home just to escape her burden.

***

Eira lost count of the number of Midgardians she carried to Valhalla. It was a long, bloody, drawn-out battle, and she ached to heal just one of the men who lay dying on the war field. Freya had taken her half already, and all that was left was to finish carrying the souls of those left to Valhalla.

She was caked in blood, and was treading amongst the bodies carefully. The mud combined with blood and sweat of battle made for tenuous footholds, and the bodies were piled high. As she progressed amongst the detritus of battle, she lost her balance and fell into the mud. Something pinched at her ankle, and she looked down and saw a hand grasping her. The warrior was buried under a fallen horse, and was weak, but Eira could feel his life force. She prised the horse off of him and pulled him free from the muck. He was so very weak, but he wouldn’t qualify for Valhalla, as his wounds would take far too long to take him, and only those who died in battle could enjoy Valhalla’s halls. His death would be drawn out, from festering in the bed of his minor wounds.

Eira cast aside her helm and spear and pulled the man into her lap. She ran a hand across his face, and cast forth her magic, feeling for where the wounds were worst. She concentrated on knitting the cuts, and cleaning the filth from them. In her mind, she saw the bone in his leg knit back together, and the muscle rejoin itself and mend. She finally saw the skin close over the wound and saw the skin unmarred, leaving no trace of her handiwork. He would live.

The battlefield lit up with a bolt of lightning, and the wind picked up, blowing the tie out of her braid. Her hair whipped around her as she knelt over the wounded man, cradling his head in her lap. Thunder rolled and lightning stuck again, closer this time to where she knelt. She could hear a soldier approach, and took her spear in her hand to defend the wounded man. But she did not rise.

“What madness is this?” The familiar voice bellowed across the rain soaked field. Eira looked up and met Thor’s gaze.

“This man was not destined for Valhalla. It matters not how much longer he lives.” Eira answered. Thor’s eyes widened in recognition and he shook his head.

“Lady Eira! How did you come to be here?” He was exhausted from the battle, and unable to make the connection between Eira’s armour and her face. Eira took the opportunity and hoped he would not remember their conversation clearly.

“This is the duty the Allfather spoke of.” She explained. It wasn’t technically a lie. She was on the battlefield because she was fulfilling her duty as a Valkyrie. Thor nodded, assuming she meant that she was there in order to heal the wounded.

“It is not safe, Lady Eira. The Valkyries still escort the dead.” He pointed Mjolnir toward one of Eira’s shieldsisters. She nodded.

“I will be safe, Your Highness. I am not in danger.” Eira assured him. She rose and collected her helm before turning back to him.

“Be safe, Lady Eira, I still seek to know more of you.” That Thor was able to flirt even when covered in muck and gore was both disturbing and reassuring to her. She nodded.

“That man needs to be removed to a healer’s tent, Your Highness. I will see you back in Asgard.” She mounted her white horse and rode away before he could make the connection between her and the other Valkyries. Loki appeared beside Thor as she vanished in the distance.

“Who is this man that you would fight a Valkyrie for his soul, brother?” He asked. Thor laughed and clapped a hand across Loki’s back.

“That was no Valkyrie, Loki. ‘Twas Eira Sigbjornsdottir. She healed him. Come, help me carry him to the healers.” Thor leaned down to pick the man up. Loki looked across the field to where he’d last seen Eira.

“What was Eira doing on Midgard?” He asked no one in particular.


	3. Chapter 3

Eira waded into the water of the sea of mist with her shieldsisters. The water ran red with the blood of the dead as it washed off their bodies. Brynhildr, the self-proclaimed leader of the Valkyries dunked herself in the water. As she floated just below the surface, she scrubbed the blood from her hair and unplaited her braid.

“Eira, it is too bad you can’t scrub the red from your hair!” She teased. Eira had spent so little time amongst the Valkyries she was uncertain how to respond. But she did stand out from them, the only redhead of the twelve. The other Valkyries were all blonde, and blue eyed. She wondered what had ever possessed Odin to look at her as a small girl with her red braids and hazel eyes and name her a Valkyrie.

“Perhaps if Eira spent more time amongst her shieldsisters, her hair would lighten?” Another of the dozen, Kara, commented as she scrubbed her hair clean. Eira submerged herself and rinsed her hair clean.

“My hair will be the next whimsy you all take when you see how well it hides the blood. You may all ride onto the battlefield blonde, but we all leave as redheads.” Eira retorted. Brynhildr laughed and waded over to her. She reached up to Eira’s forehead and rubbed her thumb just above her eyebrow.

“You had a persistent spot.” She offered by way of explanation, “We are expected to serve in Valhalla tonight. I know you have felt conflict about your place amongst us, but you are one of us. It might take some time for the others to grow to trust you, but I have been watching you for years as you’ve come and gone. Your compassion makes the warriors transition easier.”

“Thank you, Brynhildr.” Eira didn’t know what else to say. She scooped a handful of sand and used it to abrade the skin on her arms, sloughing off the most enduring gore.

“Bryn is fine, Eira. We are sisters.” Brynhildr insisted. Eira nodded and finished bathing. She used her cloak to dry off, and dressed in her clean clothes while the other Valkyries languished in the water. Hrist and Kara emerged from the water soon after and looked at her, then looked at one another before bursting into laughter. Brynhildr waded to the shore to see what the commotion was about.

“Bryn, Eira cannot wear that to Valhalla.” Hrist pointed at the tunic and hangarok Eira had donned after washing. Eira had been in the process of combing her hair when the other women had noticed her dress. Bryn wrapped herself in her cloak as she stepped onto the shore.

“Eira, sister, we will find you a dress for tonight. We don uncommon clothing in Valhalla so the newly dead are not homesick.” Brynhildr explained, “Hrist, Kara. Do you remember how difficult you found your duties the first time?”

“I cried for weeks.” Hrist admitted. Kara nodded.

“Think of how difficult this must be for Eira, who is a healer by nature. She had avoided this duty not because of shiftlessness but because of the sorrow it brings her to not heal the wounded. Show the same compassion to her that you do to the dead.” Brynhildr’s admonishment made the women blush. Eira flinched, worried the scolding would bring bad feelings back to her, but the two women instead offered to help her dress for the evening once they were in the villa the Valkyries shared.

“You should wear green, Eira. And leave your hair free.” Kara suggested as she handed Eira a flowing tunic of dark emerald. Hrist slid an elaborate arm ring to her upper arm, and added a torc around her neck. When the twelve were ready, Brynhildr led them across the Bifrost and toward Valhalla.

XXX

The mead was already flowing when the Valkyries arrived, and Brynhildr made quick work of setting the women to serving the newly dead at the table of honour. Eira plastered a welcoming smile on her face and followed the lead of her shieldsisters, serving and smiling and eventually feeling comfortable enough to flirt with the men who had just arrived in Valhalla. While she had escorted the dead before, she had never served in Valhalla, and the experience was eye opening. Brynhildr had explained that flirtation was an expectation of their service in Valhalla, but warned her off allowing the men anything more than the occasional stolen kiss.

“You will lose your place amongst us should you sacrifice your maidenhood to the dead.” Bryn cautioned. Eira wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“These men are dead.” She protested. Bryn laughed and pointed to a few of the men at the table of honour. They were young, and broad through the shoulders, with bright white smiles beaming through their thick beards. Exactly the kind of men to break a girl’s heart, Eira concluded.

“And yet, they are still handsome, are they not? And flesh and bone. So be careful their honeyed words, Eira. You would be banished from Valhalla, and why would you have given your maidenhood to a dead man but for love? There are many a story of a fallen Valkyrie who is separated for eternity from her lover.” Brynhildr’s story was solemn, but her eyes danced with mirth. It was a strange combination.

“Bryn, you’d been a Valkyrie for as long as I can remember. How do you stay pure? Is there no man here or at home to tempt you?” Eira was curious. Brynhildr looked thoughtful.

“My mother was a shieldmaiden. My father was a foot soldier. I have brought more honour to my family than either of them ever imagined. It is not hard to sacrifice a family of my own to bring eternal honour to them.” Bryn shrugged. Eira contemplated her words as she served, working hard to relax and banter with the men.

She couldn’t help but scan the room for Jarni, who himself was so recently dead. She saw him on the far side of the room, deep in conversation with a tall man with a dark beard. She tapped Brynhildr on the shoulder.

“Am I allowed to greet my brother?” She asked. Brynhildr smiled broadly.

“He would be thrilled. I think his heart was broken that it was not you to escort him here. Go to him.” Bryn nodded. Eira wove her way through the crowded hall, past tables and drunken men who were feasting on Sæhrímnir. She waved at Jarni when she was close enough to gain his attention, and he ran toward her, heedless of the men around him. He threw his arms around her and spun her in a circle.

“Sister! Finally you arrive! How I have missed you!” He kissed her soundly on both cheeks. Eira laughed and squeezed Jarni tightly. She was surprised when he pulled away and wiped her cheeks.

“Do not cry, Eira! It is wonderful here. Come, see Father!” He dragged her back to the man with the dark beard. He pushed her close to the man, who Jarni claimed was their father. Before Jarni could make introductions, the man’s eyes widened and he threw his arms around Eira.

“My daughter! A Valkyrie! Jarni had said, but I had never seen you.” He exclaimed. Eira pulled away from him and gave him an appraising look.

“You look just the same, Papa.” Eira could feel tears gathering at the corners of her eyes again, and wiped them away with the back of her hand.

“And you are all grown, Eira. You stayed away too long.” He drew her close again, and Eira felt a wave of shame cover her. She hadn’t thought of the relationship she might have had with her father had she been more willing to fulfill her calling. The small family sat and enjoyed each other’s company until Brynhildr came and asked Eira to return to her duties.

“You do have an obligation here, Eira. You can steal a few minutes each time we are here, but they are stolen moments, not long visits.”

“Of course, Bryn. My apologies, I should have realized.” Eira flushed and rose from the table, hugging her father and brother.

“Just consider that many of us have family here, Eira, and be considerate of their stolen moments too.” Bryn linked arms with her and led her back to the other Valkyries. Eira came to a sudden realization and stopped, staring at Brynhildr.

“Your parents?” She breathed. Bryn nodded her head toward a couple sitting not far from Eira’s brother and father.

“I’ve lost track of how many years I have done this, so that I might steal a moment here or there with them.” She admitted. The two women returned to the other Valkyries and continued to serve the newly dead for the duration of the evening.

XXX

Eira fell into her bed, bone-weary. The feasting and festivities in Valhalla had gone on until the sun rose, and finally Brynhildr rounded up the Valkyries and led them home to Asgard. Eira changed into her tunic and hangarok before heading back to her mother’s estate. No sooner had she passed through the door than her mother greeted her with news of the sick who needed her particular care, and she’d worked until mid-morning tending those ill whom her mother could not care for.

It felt as though she had just fallen asleep when her mother was shaking her awake again.

“Eira, the prince is here.” She whispered. Eira rolled over and groaned.

“What prince?”

“Prince Thor. He is waiting in the courtyard.” Halla whispered. Eira’s eyes snapped open and she sat up, smoothing her hair. She reached for the scrap of linen she used to tie her hair and gathered it at the nape of her neck before rising and attempting in vain to smooth the wrinkles from her hangarok. 

“Do I look presentable, Mother?” She asked. Halla raised an eyebrow and straightened the front of Eira’s hangarok. Eira cursed not having enough time to change into her prettiest dress, as she couldn’t deny that the tall, blonde prince made her heart beat faster. She stumbled to her door, and rubbed her eyes before heading to the courtyard. The prince stood admiring the fountain at the centre of the garden.

“Your Highness, I wasn’t expecting you so soon after the battle on Midgard.” She approached him and curtseyed as she drew close. He was more handsome than she remembered, his hair drawn back off his face, accentuating the strength of his jaw.

“Lady Eira, you are looking well.” He offered. She stifled a snort. He was practiced in the art of what to say to women. Not that Eira minded. Hopefully he even believed the words he offered.

“Considering that last time you saw me I was covered head to toe in the blood of the fallen?” She prompted. Thor’s cheeks reddened just enough to let her know that he was embarrassed to be caught in his honeyed compliment.

“Truly, you were a vision on the battlefield, Lady Eira. Loki honestly thought you were Valkyrie.” He laughed, as though it was the most improbable thing he’d ever heard. Eira smiled graciously.

“I am flattered by his assumption.” She murmured. Thor nodded.

“I told him ‘twas not possible. You haven’t the look of a Valkyrie at all. You are tall enough, truly, the Valkyrie are all unnaturally tall, but the red-hair, and your chestnut eyes? It is highly improbably that the Allfather would make such a choice.” Thor rambled. Eira’s eyebrow raised. He’d determined an actual shade of brown to describe her eyes. Her heart raced again.

“It would be madness to have a redheaded Valkyrie, Your Highness.” She agreed. Perhaps it was time to make a visit to the Allfather to ask some questions, she thought to herself.

“Enough of Loki, Lady Eira. I came to visit with you, and learn more of you.” Thor clapped his hands together as though he were closing a book. Eira nodded.

“I am an open book, Highness.” She offered, wondering if he was humble enough to actually want to know about who she was, or if he was just infatuated by the idea of her. She was certainly infatuated by the idea of him, if her erratic heart and frequent blushes were any indication. 

“Tell me of your healing power. You saved that soldier.” He began walking down a path in the courtyard that led to the fields behind the home. Eira followed, a step behind.

“I was still a small girl when my parents discovered my gift. I was playing in the fields near my father’s training grounds and I heard one of the men under his command scream. I knew in the moment that I could help, and I ran to help. I found the man on the ground, clutching his leg. A sword had grazed him, and cut deep and he was pouring out his lifeblood. I laid my hand on the wound and imagined it healing. The whole time, my father and the healer were trying to pull me off the soldier. When they finally were able to wrench me free, the soldier’s wound was almost completely closed.” Eira’s voice rose and fell with animation and excitement as she related the story. 

“Truly?” Thor stopped to gape at her. She nodded, her eyes bright with excitement.

“Jarni fell from a pony the next day and fell to the deathsleep. I was able to hold his hand and move the swelling from his head so that he roused the next morning. Papa took me to the Allfather, and it was then that he-“ Eira stopped suddenly, and her expression changed from joy to sorrow. Thor was intrigued.

“What did my father do?” Thor prompted. Eira met Thor’s eyes and smiled dismissively.

“Twas nothing really. He recognized my gift and asked my father and mother to ensure I nourished it with practice.” She answered quickly. She didn’t add that he named her among the twelve Valkyrie during the same visit, claiming a vision had shown the girl with the copper braids as one of the greatest of the shieldmaidens of Valhalla.

“You were quite the sight on that battlefield on Midgard.” He offered, understanding that her story was over.

“I must have looked wild, all red from head to toe, my hair flying free.”

“It was easy to see why Loki thought you were a Valkyrie.” Thor laughed. Eira shook her head, thinking Loki was far more perceptive than his brother. The gore from the field had indeed coated her armour, but her shield and helm were laid beside her, the spear was in her hand when Thor had approached. He had to have been blinded by the heat of the battle to not see it.

“His Highness has a fanciful imagination, I think.” Eira suggested with a soft, forced laugh. Thor joined in, his laugh booming.

“He sees more than I do, but I think it is because he is constantly searching.” Thor smiled and looked up to the sky, noting the position of the sun, “I’m afraid I must leave you, Lady Eira. I have been tasked by the Allfather to meet with Heimdall.” He took Eira’s hand and dropped a kiss across her knuckles. Eira felt herself colour with pleasure and embarrassment.

“I have a missive for the Allfather. I hate to ask you to be my errand-boy, but would you deliver it for me, Your Highness?” Her question was tentative. Thor smiled and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.

“It would truly be a pleasure, Lady Eira.” He kept her hand in his as they walked back through the courtyard. Eira retrieved the letter from her writing desk and sealed it quickly. She met Thor at the front drive. He took the letter and slipped it between his armour and chest, kissed her hand again and mounted his horse.

“I will visit soon, Lady Eira.” He snapped the reigns against his horse and headed down the drive back toward the city.


	4. Chapter 4

Eira sat in the courtyard, a manuscript perched on the ledge of the fountain, reading. It was a thick tome on the healing properties of the vegetation growing on Asgard and the other known realms. Despite her ability to pull from a deep source of magic to heal wounds, she preferred to make use of herbal remedies. It made life simpler and ensured that anyone who came to Halla’s home for treatment could be treated, regardless of whether or not Eira was available. Herbal healing was her mother’s gift, and while it didn’t have the impact that Eira’s magic had, it was a reliable and constant method of treating the sick. Eira felt she needed to rely on that more than ever, as her responsibilities with the Valkyries would be taking her away more. It was better to find and develop new treatments than depend on Eira getting home in time to save a life. So she was spending all her free time reading and collecting plants, creating salves and tinctures and testing them for efficiency. When they worked, Eira noted exactly how they were made. When they did not, she noted how they were made, how they didn’t work, and if there were ill effects from the use.

She’d been reading about Midgard’s plants for the past few days and was accumulating quite a list of plants she wanted to acquire the next time she was called to the realm. It was a violent time on Midgard, and she thought she would be seeing much of the Northmen over the coming years, which would give her ample time to collect what she was researching.

“I hope you do not mind, Eira. I let myself in.” The male voice startled her, and she nearly knocked her book into the fountain. She steadied it and looked up, immediately rising and dropping into a curtsey.

“Highness! I was not expecting a visit from you.” She breathed. 

“I thought we’d dispensed with such courtesies, Eira.” Loki smiled as he approached. She raised her head and met his eyes, a smile spreading across her face.

“I am always careful not to assume, Loki.” She admitted.

“And my brother still has not given you leave to be so familiar yet, has he?” Loki queried. Eira blushed.

“He has not.” She acknowledged. Loki nodded wisely.

“He forgets that courtship is about familiarity, I think.” He laughed.

“Is that why you are so familiar? Am I the bone being fought for by two dogs?” Eira snorted in contempt. Loki laughed again.

“No, Eira. I learned long ago that I never win in those contests. I came to see you as one conjurer to another. I saw the result of your healing on Midgard, perhaps more clearly than anyone else could. His leg was rent, nearly completely off. It takes quite advanced magic to heal that.” Loki probed. Eira blushed again.

“I have always had the gift of healing.” She was modest.

“That is more than a gift for healing, that is wondrous and powerful magic, Eira. How did you learn?”

“I didn’t learn. I’ve always been able to, as long as I can remember. I can see inside the body, and move the elements around to repair it.”

“What other magic can you create?” He demanded. Eira shook her head.

“None. That is all I am capable of.”

“Said as though you are unaware of how powerful your gift is.” Loki looked as though he didn’t believe her. He pulled out his dagger and slashed his arm. Eira jumped up and put her hand over the wound. But she didn’t immediately heal him.

“Is this a test, Loki?” She demanded, “I cannot let you bleed to death, you are Odin’s son. But I can make you wait until you are on the brink, and weak.” She was angry at the thought he would take advantage of her.

“It is a test of a sort. I want to feel your magic. I need to know how it works.” He admitted. His blood seeped through her fingers and Eira looked at the small pool accumulating at their feet with disgust. She glared at Loki, not breaking eye contact, and concentrated on the wound in his arm, visualizing the flesh mending. She usually visualized these repairs as being painless, but she forewent that in Loki’s case, to teach him a lesson. His face twisted in pain, but he didn’t cry out. Eira took her time, ensuring there would be no trace of the wound, but it drew out the repair and Loki had a thin sheen of sweat on his brow when she finally let go of his arm.

“You could have made that hurt less.” He accused as she washed her hands in the fountain. She turned back to him with an innocent smile.

“I could have. But then what would stop you from doing this as a party trick?” She agreed. Loki looked at his arm in awe.

“I’ve never felt magic like that before.”

“You are yet young, Loki.” Eira was dismissive.

“I am not inexperienced. This is more than a gift, Eira.” Loki rubbed the spot where he’d cut himself. He looked lost and puzzled. Eira almost felt sorry for him.

“You already said that.” She laughed softly, drying her hands on her hangarok. She picked up her book and walked toward the door to the library. Loki followed, contemplating her ability.

“Why were you on Midgard?” He asked suddenly. Eira spun around, blanching at the question.

“I healed that soldier, I was-“

“Yes, you did heal him. But why where you there to begin with? The battle was over. Freya had collected her share to Folkvangr, and all that was left on the battlefield were the wounded, the dead and the Valkyries. So why where you there?” Loki cut her off. Eira turned away and started toward the library again. Loki reached out and stopped her.

“Loki –“ She started.

“I know I’ve told you we are on familiar terms, but you would do well to remember I am the son of Odin, and I will find out why you were on Midgard. Even if it means taking you to the Allfather and having him force your hand.” Loki threatened. Eira squared her jaw and wrenched her arm from his grasp.

“There are some secrets so great that even the Allfather won’t share them with you, Your Highness.” Her voice dripped with ice and Loki looked as though she had slapped him. He dropped his hand to his side and pursed his lips.

“That leaves me with only one more question for you, Eira. Does Thor know he courts a Valkyrie? He won’t be happy that you withhold your maidenhood to remain a servant to the glorious dead.” Loki crossed his arms and awaited her answer. The colour left her face.

“How-“

“You wear armour, a helm, carry a shield and spear, and rode a white horse off the battlefield. Thor may be blinded by his lust for you but I suffer no such malady. You may not look like one of the twelve, but I’ve no doubt you are numbered among them.” His eyes flashed green and Eira closed her own in response. She sighed deeply.

“And what must I do to have you keep my secret?” Her tone was flat, defeated. Loki’s mouth turned up at one corner.

“Not one thing. Continue to lead my brother on his merry chase. That is satisfaction enough for me.” Loki was notorious for his keen sense of mischief. Eira should have known it would be so simple, while still being so complex.

“How do you know I want to remain a Valkyrie?” She turned his plot back on him.

“You’re not the type to fall into bed with a prince to be rid of a responsibility, Eira.” Loki shook his head.

“No?”

“No, a commoner, maybe. Or one of the dead. But not a prince. You are not so clichéd as to look for a gilded bed.” He locked his eyes on hers as he spoke, and despite the temptation to do exactly what he said she wouldn’t, she knew he was right. The only way she would bed his brother was if they came to an agreement that involved love. And Thor did not have the air of a family man about him, still young and looking for glory and war.

“You have a way with words, Loki.” Eira’s comment was sarcastic and Loki threw back his head and laughed.

“They don’t call me Silvertongue for nothing, Eira.” He winked, “I will see myself out.” He headed through the library and turned into the hall. As soon as he’d disappeared from sight, he reappeared, holding a letter.

“I forgot the other reason I came this way. The Allfather has summoned you to court.” He handed the envelope over and turned back out the door. She listened to his footsteps diminish as he got closer to the door, and then heard his horse whiney. 

Eira dropped into a comfortable chair and turned the envelope over to break the seal, only to discover it was already broken. No wonder Loki had known she’d been called to see the Allfather. She supposed he was insulted to be treated as a messenger, and the missive didn’t contain any great secrets, so she wasn’t really offended. The nature of the note was troubling though.

Eira Sigbjornsdottir,   
Regardless of any other duties that may arise between time of this missive and the morrow, I must demand you make time to meet with me in the throne room after morning feast.  
Odin Allfather

Eira sighed and made her way to her room to find something suitable to wear.

XXX

Eira entered the throne room and took a knee as she approached the throne. The Allfather sat, holding Gungnir in his right hand, Huginn and Munnin perched on the back of the throne. She took a deep breath, fortifying herself. Her hands were shaking. She had no real idea why she had been summoned, despite needing to be on Midgard to escort the dead from another battle the Northmen had started. She didn’t think she should be in trouble for healing the soldier on Midgard, as she hadn’t changed his destiny by healing him. She felt unsettled and troubled regardless.

“Rise, Eira, and come forward. Our conversation is not for the entire court to hear.” Odin gestured to the dais the throne was on. Eira stepped up to Odin and tried to remember to breathe. She knelt in front of him again.

“Your Majesty, I-“

“Lady Eira, calm yourself. You are not here the answer for any crime. You are here to discuss some aspects of your calling and abilities.” Odin held a hand up to quiet her.

“Oh.” Eira was surprised. Her frantic heart slowed down, and she felt her breathing coming easier.

“You fulfilled your duties as Valkyrie a few days past, did you not?” Odin asked. Eira nodded, unable to find her voice.

“And while you were on Midgard, you healed a soldier?”

“Yes, Allfather.” She croaked. Odin nodded.

“His wound had been seen by the Midgardian healers, and been passed over as too severe. They felt he would bleed to death.” Odin saw everything through Huginn and Muninn.

“His wound was not so severe, Allfather. It would have festered, and he would have died long after the battle.”

“If he were Aesir, Lady Eira, yes. Midgardians are much weaker than we are. The wound was fatal. He was destined for Valhalla.” Odin’s words were gentle, but there was a lesson in his voice. He didn’t need to say anything, but Eira could hear the unspoken words. Had she been diligent in riding with the Valkyries, she would have enough experience with offworld beings to know what wounds would kill them, and which would not. She felt her cheeks redden, and tears sprang to her eyes.

“I am so sorry, Allfather. I know that’s not enough –“ she began.

“You are headstrong, Lady Eira. You have refused to fulfill your duties. You have shirked your responsibility as a Valkyries, one of my chosen shieldmaidens, in order to spend your time on pursuits you prefer. You were bound to make this mistake and alter the fates eventually. I should cast you out, and leave you to roam the worlds unprotected, unguided.” Odin’s words cut Eira deeply.

“I will accept whatever punishment you see fit, Allfather.” She bowed her head, and felt the tears drop from her lashes to the dais. Odin placed his hand on her shoulder.

“They are worshipping you as a goddess on Midgard.” Odin was still gentle with her, and her head snapped back up to look at him, confused.

“A goddess?” She asked, her voice louder than she had intended. Odin nodded.

“The soldier lived because you intervened. They say you are their goddess of healing.”

“I am no god, Allfather.” Eira protested.

“Lady Eira, none of us are. But many of us belong in their pantheon. And now you do as well. You are Eir, goddess of healing, and Valkyrie. Your abilities will ever be entwined, and you will never be free of either.” Odin foretold. Eira felt a shiver cross her body.

“But Allfather, when I fall in love, when I marry-“

“A loss of maidenhood is no guarantee of freedom from your bond.” Odin’s response was enigmatic. Eira took a steadying breath.

“I don’t understand.” Her words were a whisper.

“Fulfill your duties. Heal with the magic you hold, escort the dead to Valhalla. Stop questioning your purpose. You were given your gifts in order to bring you to greatness. And now you have achieved it, with one poorly timed decision. You must live with this, goddess of healing.” Odin’s mouth twisted into a wry smile, and Eira felt awash in helplessness.

“I will do as you have bidden, Allfather. You have my sacred vow.” She swore. Odin nodded.

“My son has asked me to explain my decision to call you as Valkyrie. I have given him an answer. Would you hear it now, Eira?” He offered. 

“It would bring me no greater joy than to know why you called me.” She admitted.

“When you were brought before me, as a small child, with such incredible power, I saw your destiny. And like you, I sought to change what I saw. I called you because your duty to me, to the glorious dead, will save you. You may think your burden is heavy. I see the destiny of all my subjects, when I choose to look. There is no weightier burden than to see what will happen to a child.” Odin volunteered. With his admission, Eira understood why she was not cast out for changing the soldier’s destiny. Odin was as guilty as she was of altering the design of fate.


	5. Chapter 5

Eira felt the call of the Valkyrie during her morning meal, and reluctantly rose to ready herself. Her mother was in their shared workshop, concocting an elixir to treat an inflammation of the belly. Eira slipped in quietly and kissed her mother’s brow.

“I have heard the call. The dead await.” She whispered before slipping out to the stables to saddle her horse and armour up. After ensuring none of the sick in the healing wing of the estate would see her, she mounted her horse and galloped toward the villa of the Valkyries. 

When she arrived at the dwelling, she dismounted and patted her horse on the jaw. His sides her heaving.

“Rest up, Fleygur, we ride again soon.” Eira tethered him to a post outside the stables and made her way to the langhus. The other Valkyries were in various states of preparedness. Brynhildr approached Eira immediately.

“The Allfather told me of his discussion with you.” She prompted.

“Yes, I have many queries for you. For another time.” Eira acknowledged.

“Remember, Eira. Tend to the dead first. Then you may heal the living.” Bryn clasped her shoulder and looked deeply at her. Eira nodded in agreement.

“I will not defy the Norns again, willingly or by accident.” She assured Brynhildr.

“Good. Our fates are decided before we are even born, Eira. We cannot alter destiny without profound effect on the future.” Bryn warned. Eira nodded again, thinking on what the Allfather had done to her by calling her to the Valkyries. Could fate be altered? It was a subject that would require further contemplation sometime when she could devote her whole self to the task. 

The women assembled at the stables and rode down the Bifrost into the battle. Freya was already collecting her share of souls when they alighted on the war field. She saw Eira and approached her quickly.

“The young goddess! How fortunate I am to be meeting her.” Freya exclaimed, sarcasm evident in her tone.

“I am no more goddess than you, Freya.” Eira corrected.

“But they see us as such, Eira. We must act the part.” Freya gestured to the men on the field. “The dead, the dying, the wounded and the well. They all see us as greater than they, and they pray to us. For love, for health, for deliverance. Listen carefully when you are collecting souls today, and you will hear your name on their lips. All from one chance moment when you healed a dead man and stole a soul from Valhalla.” Freya’s lecture was calculated and cut deep, but Eira heard the intended message. She had a role to play that was greater than she had ever intended, and that was punishment for defying the Norns. Freya turned quickly and went back to harvesting the souls of the dead to send to Sessrumnir.

Eira suppressed her sorrow and artlessly fulfilled her duty, escorting the heroic dead to Valhalla. When each soul was accounted for, she found Brynhildr kneeling by a shallow pool, drinking.

“I will return in time to serve in Valhalla. But I have other obligations on Midgard now.” Eira’s words were determined, as though she was expecting a confrontation.

“They pray to you yet, Eira. See to the wounded, and I will meet you in Valhalla tonight.” Bryn nodded and held her arm out. Eira pulled her friend to her feet and Brynhildr pulled her into a quick embrace.

Eira began to work her way through the bodies on the field, tending to the greatest wounds first. If her time was to be limited by needing to be in Valhalla by nightfall, she wanted to heal the worst off before moving on to minor injuries that Midgardian healers could manage. She came to a man with an arrow to the belly. If left, his stomach humours would leak into his body cavity, and fester, killing him slowly and painfully. She laid a hand on his forehead to still him. He was soaked with perspiration, and pale, cool to the touch. His eyes opened, just barely, and then widened.

“Am I to Valhalla then, Valkyrie?” His voice was a hoarse whisper. Eira shook her head and removed her helm. She laid her hand back on his forehead and let her magic seek out the injury and inspect it. The arrow was holding back the rush of fluid.

“Today is not your day to die, Northman.” She spoke softly. She held him in her lap and covered the arrow wound, wrapping her fingers around the shaft of the arrow. She quickly pulled it out, and laid both her hands against the wound, working the worst of wound closed with her magic. His eyes widened in recognition.

“Eir.” He breathed and reached a hand up to touch her face. She stilled him again, and finished healing the flesh of his belly to a dark scab before moving on to another wounded warrior. Again and again she healed, doing what was the absolute minimum in order for the men to survive until the Midgardian healers could finish tending their wounds. 

As she knelt over a particularly badly injured man, trying to mend a wound that grazed his heart, she saw blood dropping on the back of her hands, and looked up, thinking there was someone standing above her, but she was alone. She sniffed lightly and then rubbed the back of her hand across her face. It came away wet with her own blood. In the reflection of the man’s helm she saw her nose was bleeding. She was overtaxing her abilities. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Here, this will stop the bleeding.” A young woman handed her a handful of soft leaves that she had never seen before. Eira stared at her blankly.

“What is this?” She asked.

“It is yarrow. Put it in your nose.” The girl gestured what to do. Eira bunched a handful and stuffed it into her nose, and slipped the rest into her hip pouch.

“Thank you.” She could feel the blood flow slowing immediately.

“I didn’t think a goddess could bleed.” The girl was curious. She was obviously a healer for one of the sides of the battle, her clothes were covered in blood and gore. Her hands were small, but looked capable. Her hair was tied back in the same loose braid that Eira wore when she worked in the sick wing at home.

“Who says I am a goddess?” Eira dismissed. The girl looked over at Eira’s discarded items, her helm, her spear and shield, Fleygur grazing in the green grass along the edge of the war field. She quirked an eyebrow in disbelief.

“There are no shieldmaidens among our clans. And I saw you among the Valkyries.” Her response was so matter-of-fact that Eira wanted to laugh.

“Well, we all need healing sometimes.” Eira pulled the plant from her nose, certain the bleeding was staunched. The girl stared at her wordlessly as Eira laid her hands back on the wounded man in front of her and focused her magic to heal him. 

“I have saved as many as can be. The rest is in the hands of your healers here, on Midgard.” Eira rose and collected her things as she walked toward Fleygur. The girl followed.

“How can we thank you, Eir?” She asked. Eira looked down from Fleygur and thought.

“Tend to your wounded.” She kicked the sides of her horse and called for Heimdall to bring her back to Asgard.

XXX

“Wait, the Allfather named you a goddess?” Jarni took a long drink from his tankard. Eira had stolen away for her few moments with him and her father.

“You know none of us are gods, Jarni. The Allfather can’t just turn us into such. He said that the Midgardians now worship me. The goddess of healing.” She snorted and rolled her eyes, but even she wasn’t certain if it was in amusement or disgust. Jarni laughed.

One of the newly dead approached her where she stood with her family.

“Eir? My son is small, and sick. He will not reach adulthood; he will never earn a place here in Valhalla. Can you heal him that he may have a chance? My wife, she prays to you every day, hoping you will touch his head and still his illness.” He was young himself, and Eira could see the haunting outline of the sword cleave that had killed him. Eira touched his arm.

“I cannot promise to heal him, Snorri Angarsson. I cannot alter the path the Norns have chosen for him. But I can ease his suffering, and heal him if I can.” Eira responded. Snorri’s face lightened with her words and he returned to his comrades for another drink. Eira sought out Brynhildr.

“Bryn, I would have your opinion on something.” Eira started. “Do you think Heimdall would allow me access to Midgard when we are not called to battle?” Brynhildr looked thoughtful for a moment.

“I would think so. You are worshipped on Midgard. But why would you want to go there? They are always fighting, it is primitive and backward.” Bryn wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“No more primitive than the crown prince always seeking out battles” Eira laughed. “I have need of healing plants.” Her answer was somewhat evasive. Brynhildr seemed to accept it without guile.

“The only way you will know is to ask Heimdall.” She offered. The two women stood near the mead casks and watched the feasting. No one would ever know these men were newly dead from the laughter and frivolity that was taking place throughout the hall.

“The Allfather said my path as a healer was inextricably entwined with my calling as a Valkyrie.” Eira blurted out suddenly. Brynhildr turned to face her, confusion marring her beautiful features.

“To what extent?” Bryn asked.

“He said that I will never be free of my duty to the dead. But I was told as a child that I would only be a Valkyrie as long as I was a maid.” Eira was clearly confused. Brynhildr’s confusion eased and she nodded.

“For some, their duty ends with the loss of maidenhood. For others, we remain unchanging, young and beautiful and pure, regardless of how many lovers we take.” She explained.

“How is that fair?” Eira exclaimed. Brynhildr laughed.

“It isn’t, Eira. It is the way of the Norns to do as pleases them and no one else. A Valkyrie cannot bear children, who would mind them when we ride into battles? I think our duty is tied to that more than our maidenhood.” Bryn speculated, “At any rate, I have tried a thousand times over to get with child and be free of this. I remain young and unpolluted. I will be a Valkyrie for eternity. Perhaps that is what the Allfather saw in you as well.” 

“He said he called me as a Valkyrie to save me.”

“Perhaps he intended you to take this calling to heart, and not take a lover then. I know not. But I am glad you have chosen to take this burden upon you fully. We have always been sisters, Eira. But now we can be friends.” Brynhildr snaked an arm around Eira’s waist and tipped her head against Eira’s shoulder familiarly. The two of them, relaxed together against the mead casks made such a beautiful picture that the warriors in the hall whooped their admiration.

XXX

Eira walked through the large open archway into Himinbjorg and was overwhelmed by the lustrous sheen of the golden walls. She stopped just inside the arches, gaping at the beauty of the room. Heimdall stood unmoving, keeping watch over all the realms in the heavens.

“I’ve been expecting you, Eira.” Heimdall spoke, startling Eira out of her reverie.

“You have?” 

“I am all-seeing. That includes conversations between shieldsisters in Valhalla.” His voice boomed and echoed through the room. Eira flinched.

“So you know I wish to travel to Midgard to collect plants.” Eira prompted him. He nodded.

“And to see to Snorri Angarsson’s son.” He completed for her. She flushed.

“There is no shame in your desire to serve the Midgardians, Eira. You are a born healer. Your empathy will know no boundaries. Perhaps that is what the Allfather saw that scared him so.” He suggested. “I will transport you to Midgard. Not often, even the Allfather doesn’t travel between realms on whims. But if the reason is just, I will transport you at times other than when you are with your shieldsisters.”

“How do you bear to keep all the secrets of all the realms, Heimdall?” Eira asked, suddenly realizing the incredible burden he bore.

“I do not dwell on the secrets of others.” Heimdall was pragmatic in his answer. “When did you hope to leave?”

“I need to collect my list. I’ve made a study of the Midgardian texts on healing, and have a number of plants I would like to find. I will come to you when I am ready to go collecting.” Eira smiled, giddy at the thought of laying in a store of herbal remedies.


	6. Chapter 6

Eira wrapped a hunk of cheese and some meat in a piece of waxed linen and slipped them into her haversack. She had already packed a small trowel, knife and gloves in the bag. She stood in the kitchen, thinking about if she needed anything else. Halla entered, turned the fire and looked at Eira.

“You will be safe, Eira?” Halla was nervous about the trip to Midgard. Eira laughed. This visit was to be so much safer than any of the times she’d gone as a Valkyrie. 

“I will take my dagger, and I will have Fleygur. He is swift. I will be fine, Mother.” Eira took her mother’s hands and squeezed them in reassurance. With a quick hug and kiss, Eira turned to the stables to ready Fleygur. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Thor spoke from behind her.

“Your mother says you are making a trip to Midgard.” It was a question. Eira turned and curtseyed. 

“I am. I have spoken to Heimdall, and he will open the Bifrost so I may collect medicinal plants, Highness.” Eira answered, and turned back to Fleygur’s tack. She tightened the saddle strap and slipped the bridle onto his broad head. Thor stepped closer, and patted the horse’s rump. Fleygur rolled an eye to see who was there. The beast was curious, but not skittish.

“I will join you. Midgard can be unpredictable, and you are not trained for combat.” Thor announced. Eira felt a little thrill at the prospect of a day alone with the prince.

“As you wish, Highness. I would enjoy your company.” Her smile was genuine. Thor drew in his breath, taken in by the beauty of it.

“I had thought to take you on a picnic today, Lady Eira. It is fortunate that I prepared so well. Let us be off to Heimdall and to adventure.” Thor assisted her in mounting her horse. She didn’t need the assistance, but she accepted it anyhow, enjoying the feel of his strong hands at her waist. He led Fleygur out to the drive in front of the house and handed her the reigns so he could mount his own horse. Thor’s gaze met hers briefly, and he kicked his horse to a gallop with a wink. Eira laughed and followed, urging Fleygur ahead of the prince. She was out of breath when they reached Himinbjorg, but she had beat Thor. 

Thor reigned in his horse and stopped beside Eira.

“I may have lost, Lady Eira, but I had a wonderful view. Perhaps I truly won.” Thor laughed. Eira flushed and looked at the ground, pushing her hair back from her face.

“You flirt so easily, Highness. It flatters a girl.” She smiled at him. He grinned and led his horse into the chamber of Himinbjorg without another word.

“Heimdall! We would ride to Midgard.” Thor’s voice boomed and echoed in the golden dome, making Eira think that perhaps there was no way to be quiet or discrete in the large room. Heimdall nodded and Eira and Thor rode out into the heavens.

There was no number of times that Eira would ride the rainbow bridge that would ever make her used to the unsettled feeling in her stomach. She always felt quite green after transport, as though she might lose a meal if she moved to quickly. It passed quickly, but she noticed with some jealousy that Thor looked as robust and hale as he always did.

“Does it not nauseate you, Highness?” Eira asked. Thor turned on his horse and smiled.

“Never. It is exhilarating!” He exclaimed, and then noticed how pale Eira was. He frowned and dismounted from his horse. He placed a hand on her calf.

“Let me help you down, Lady Eira. The ground beneath your feet will settle you sooner than if you remain mounted.” He recommended. Eira swung her leg over the side of the horse and allowed Thor’s hands to guide her to the ground. Her heart raced at the touch to her waist. It was more intimate than any man had ever been. His hands lingered at her waist once she was on the ground, and he looked fondly at her. He finally released her, and pushed a strand of her long hair behind her ear without saying a word.

“That is much better. Thank you, Highness.” Eira’s words broke the silence between them, and Thor blinked out of his contemplation. He turned back to his horse.

“What plants do you seek, Lady Eira. I have a mean amount of knowledge.” He offered.

“You do?” She was surprised. Thor smiled.

“Sometimes battles rage longer than anticipated. I have learned which plants are safe to consume. Volstagg perhaps would have been a better companion for you. He knows which are safe to consume, and which make exceptional spices as well.” He laughed.

“Well, I’m not as worried about edibles. I seek medicinal plants, Highness.”

“Many of them go hand in hand, if the way the Midgardians use them is any indication.” Thor responded. Eira nodded thoughtfully and led Fleygur from the Bifrost site. 

“Are you content to follow, Highness? I’m not completely sure of everything I seek.”

“The view from here is enchanting. I mind not following your lead, Lady Eira.” Thor flirted. Eira felt herself flushing again and turned to meet Thor’s gaze.

“You distract me with your honeyed words, Highness.” Eira scolded him with a playful smile. Thor sobered, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

“Well, we can’t have that. Back to work, my lady.” He gestured ahead of them. Eira looked across the field, instantly recognizing the yarrow plant she had been given for her nosebleed. She walked toward the spray of flowers and knelt down, retrieving her trowel. She carefully uprooted a few plants. 

“In my saddlebag there are a number of pieces of waxed linen. Would you mind bringing me one, Highness?” She called over her shoulder. Thor rummaged through the sack and brought the linen to her. She carefully wrapped the root bundle and gently slipped them into her haversack. She looked up and saw a spray of purple flowers that she recognized as lavender. She repeated the same process and made her way across the field, collecting like plants. Some of them she merely took samples of, for later identification, but the ones she was able to easily identify she took the entire plant. She would add them to the healer’s garden in the courtyard when she got home, and cultivate them according to the Midgardian healing tomes. 

To his credit, Thor did not look as incredibly bored as he must have been, but Eira was also well aware that he was enjoying watching her work, as it allowed him to admire her figure without needing to submit to polite convention. He excused himself at one point and walked to the edge of the forest. Eira turned back to her plants, not noticing when he returned. She rose and swiped her hand across her brow, wiping away sweat that had beaded there. The midday sun was hot and she was thirsty.

“Shall we break for lunch, Highness?” Eira asked. Thor grinned broadly.

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure.” He answered and made quick work of laying out their meal. They sat in silence in the field, making quick work of the array of meat and cheese that Thor had laid out. Thor was stretched out on the ground, legs crossed at the ankles. He was propped up on one elbow; cutting into an apple with a small knife he’d pulled from his boot. He laid the apple slices out on the plate with the cheese. He then opened a piece of linen and held it out to her. It was filled with small red berried that Eira had never seen before. They were a bright red and were covered in tiny seeds.

“What are these?” Eira held her hand above them, waiting to take one, but wanting to know what they were first.

“They call them strawberries. Try one. They taste like sunshine.” Thor urged her. Eira took one, intrigued. The surface of the berry was rough, and felt strange against her lips, but when she bit into it, the flavour burst across her tongue. She savoured the meat of the berry, chewing slowly.

“Midgard has some amazing secrets.” Eira exclaimed and reached for another of the berries. She laid back and stared at the sky, watching thin clouds race across the deep blue. Thor smiled and leaned toward her.

“This day will be another of them.” He said quietly, and kissed her. It was soft and chaste. Not at all what Eira would expect from the notorious womanizing prince. Her heart sped up. He pulled away, his hair trailing across her face. Eira drew in a deep breath and sat up. Thor also sat, sliding closer to her in the process. He held out the strawberries again, and Eira greedily took another, smiling shyly.

“Thank you, Highness.” She wasn’t sure if she was acknowledging the kiss or the berries. Thor smiled.

“I should have asked before stealing a kiss, Lady Eira. I couldn’t resist.” He apologized. Eira held her hand up to his mouth and shook her head.

“You need not apologize for so gentle a gift.” She said. He took her hand and pressed his lips against her palm, and then placed it on his chest, bringing Eira closer to him.

“Then I would like to gift you another.” He murmured, and put his hand to her face. He leaned forward and kissed her again, this time meeting her lips with firm intent. A flutter bubbled up from Eira’s stomach, and she moved her hand from his chest to his shoulder. Thor drew her closer, mouth still pressed to hers, and Eira struggled to breathe as their lips tangled together. One of Thor’s hands traced up the side of her body until his large hand settled on her ribs, just below her breast, cupping it. Eira could feel herself leaning closer, deepening their kiss, lost in the moment. Thor pushed her gently to the ground, never pulling his mouth away from hers. His hand slipped up from her breast to unclasp the brooch holding the strap of her hangarok. He pushed it aside, pushed away the beaded festoon that covered her chest and slid his hand back down to her breast. 

“Eira,” He breathed her name across her mouth. It was familiar, and so incredibly arousing.

Eira drew in her breath suddenly and came back to herself. She broke away from his embrace and sat up, scrambling back from him. Thor looked confused and surprised.

“This is too fast, Highness. I’m sorry.” She fumbled with her brooch and festoon, pulling herself back together. Loki’s words hung in her head, taunting. She was not seeking a gilded bed, she did not want to be just another of Thor’s conquests. She rose and dusted the bracken and grass from her dress. Thor stood and stepped toward her. Eira put a hand up and gave him a cautioning look.

“Lady Eira, I am the one who should apologize. I should have realized. You grew up away from court, and are yet a maid.” He stepped forward and took her hands in his. “This is territory I am become unfamiliar with.” 

Eira blushed and looked away, pursing her lips. She could still feel his on them, still taste his mouth. She bit her lip and looked back at him.

“I have never been ashamed of my maidenhood until this day.” She whispered. Thor shook his head and drew her into his arms.

“No, Lady Eira. Do not feel shame. It makes your beauty shine that much brighter. I can wait, ástin mín.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, and held her close. Eira wanted to curse Odin for calling her as Valkyrie, and curse Loki for assuming she was better than she wanted to be.


	7. Chapter 7

The twelve Valkyries were washing up in the lake when a messenger rode toward them, kicking up dust. He was enveloped in a cloud of it and brought it to the women. Some of the girls who were sunning themselves on the shore dashed back into the water to avoid being soiled again, and others ran back to protect their modesty. When the rider reigned in his mount and dropped to the ground, all the Valkyries were back in the water, save Brynhildr, who was wrapped in a cloak and glaring defiantly at the man.

“Why come you here?” She demanded, “You break the solitude of our ritual.” 

“It is emergent, Brynhildr.” He said and bowed deeply, holding a message in the air. Brynhildr took it and broke the seal. She read it quickly and turned to the water.

“Eira, you are needed at court. You are excused from your duties in Valhalla tonight. Stop at your home and collect what you would need to staunch bleeding, but hurry. Fandral was badly wounded today.” Brynhildr ordered her. Eira dashed from the water without thinking of the messenger.

“I did not see him on the field!” She exclaimed, throwing on her dirty shift and pants, and rushing to Fleygur. She pulled on her boots quickly and mounted Fleygur. She reeled him around to depart, but stopped to look to Brynhildr for direction.

“Go Eira! Worry not of this duty, today you must shine as a goddess.” Bryn spoke ominously and waved her away. Eira kicked the sides of Fleygur urgently and headed toward home. The message had obviously already reached her mother, who was standing in the drive holding saddlebags. She barely slowed as she rode past and grabbed the bags from her mother, tossing them across her lap and urging Fleygur on toward the palace. 

The golden spires of the palace loomed larger until Eira was riding through the massive gates, still at full speed. She reigned in Fleygur and was leaping from his back before he had even started to slow. She tossed her bags at a servant standing nearby and handed the reigns to another. They both looked surprised and seemed rooted to the floor.

“Take me to Fandral.” She demanded. The servant with her bags came to life, heading toward the end of the main hall.

“He is in the throne room. You can run faster than me, my lady.” The servant gestured in the direction she needed to go. She reached in her bag for the yarrow she’d received from the Midgardian healer.

“Follow as fast as you can, but do not overtax yourself, and I will have to treat you second.” She smiled kindly at him and ran down the hall. The soldiers guarding the throne room saw her coming and opened the doors just as she was running through them. She headed to the dais, where she saw Odin kneeling over a prone body. Volstagg, Hogun, Sif, Thor and Loki all stood at the bottom of the dais. One of Odin’s ravens shrieked and he looked up. The relief that washed over his face reached deep into his good eye. The other warriors followed his gaze and Eira saw relief flood their faces as well.

“Eira, you are here! He was slashed through the leg, it is deep and he has lost much blood. Neither Frigga nor Loki have been able to heal him. The blade must have been cursed.” Odin called as she ran the final feet toward Fandral. He had the look of death on him. His breathing was laboured and shallow and his colour was grey. He barely stirred when she skidded across the floor on her knees to him. Eira cursed.

“Allfather, look for me and tell me this death is not predestined.” She begged as she laid the yarrow across the gaping wound in Fandral’s upper thigh. She pressed down, and Fandral cried out weakly.

“I know, sætur einn. I am sorry. The pressure helps to slow the blood, so I can see what needs to be mended.” Eira spoke softly and smoothed Fandral’s sweaty hair from his brow. She laid one hand on his forehead, and another at the wound and pushed her mind into his body. She could clearly see the long bone in the leg was fractured and the marrow was leaking out.

“The Norns have more work for him. Today is not his day to ride to Valhalla.” Odin spoke as Eira rocked back on her heels, visualizing the injuries. The first thing she needed to repair was the leaking marrow. She concentrated and worked it back into the bone, willing the bone to knit closed. She felt around with her mind and saw that the large blood vessel in his leg was not torn, but was badly bruised, and pulled the bruising away. She kept the pressure on the yarrow dressing and willed the muscle in his leg to heal. As she felt the muscle pulling together, she pulled back the yarrow, out of the path of the healing flesh. She had just to knit the skin together, and then manage his blood loss and he would be saved. She took a long breath and focused on the cut in the skin, but it would not meet and grow together. The wound continued to ooze blood, more blood than it should have.

“The blade was cursed, Eira. You need to lift the curse.” Loki’s voice interupted her thoughts. 

“I need a needle, and clean silk. In my bags. I will sew together the wound until I can lift the curse. And the rest of the yarrow too, I need that.” Eira pointed to the bag in question, and Sif quickly pulled the needle and thread out, and handed them to her. 

“This will hurt, fallegur strákur, you must be strong for me.” She smoothed his brow again and turned to the wound. Fandral screamed as the needle pierced his skin, and tried to pull away. Volstagg and Hogun settled in beside him to hold him down. She made quick work of the stitches, and covered the injury with the remaining yarrow, tying it in place with a strip of linen. She laid both her hands on the wound and tried to feel the curse. She could feel it there, like a snake poised to strike, but couldn’t tease it away from the wound. She looked up at Loki and held her hand out to him.

“Your magic is different than mine. Help me.” She asked. He knelt and took her hand in his, and laid his other hand over hers on the wound. 

“I can see the curse, it’s coiled around the edges of the skin.” Loki breathed. “Is this what you always see when you look inside people?”

“It is. Can you see a way to pull it out of the skin?” She asked. Loki took a deep breath in and forced it out, closing his eyes in concentration.

“You focus on healing the wound. I will focus on drawing out the curse. If we put as much magic as we have into it, I think it will break the bond the the curse has.” He nodded. Eira redoubled her efforts to force the skin to heal. She could feel her magic flowing through her into Loki, and felt a different magic completely flowing back into her. It wrapped around her heart, and into her stomach before finding its way back out her other hand and into Fandral’s wound. A bright spark shot out from under their hands and pushed them both onto their backs. Eira scrambled back to her knees and leaned over Fandral’s form, pulling off the dressing and checking the wound. As she watched, the gash healed together, leaving a thin red scar. She pressed her hand against it to worry the redness away, but it wouldn’t leave.

“The curse is broken, and the wound is healed. But he had lost a great deal of blood. I need a soft soup of meat. Rare as is safe.” Eira spoke to no one in particular. “We need to get him comfortable in a bed. I will stay to watch over him and tend his needs.”

Eira rose and wiped her bloody hands on her pants. Thor gestured to the palace guards and issued some orders. The guards placed their weapons against a pillar and carried Fandral out of the hall.

“A word, Eira.” Sif asked. Eira turned toward her, hesitantly. She still remembered the words Sif had said about her when she first met Thor and Loki. Sif took a few steps away from the dais and the other people still standing there. Eira followed.

“You have concerns, Sif?” Eira asked. Sif nodded.

“You are a remarkable healer. I have heard of your ability, but also have seen its result. So I am not trying to be disrespectful of your talent, but how to we know you broke the curse from that blade?” Her words were quick and low.

“The wound fought against healing until the curse broke, and then closed together with ease.” Eira explained.

“And you were able to do that with Loki?” Sif asked. Eira nodded.

“Yes, our magics flowed together and worked in tandem.” Eira agreed.

“You are well-suited to him.” Sif’s words were direct. “Much better suited than to Thor, I think.”

Eira stiffened at the dig and narrowed her eyes.

“Your talent lies in your shield, Sif, not your ability as a matchmaker.” Eira forced a light laugh at the end of her response.

“Does it matter which prince you have? Is it not a prince you seek?” Sif accused. Eira reeled back as if slapped. And in response, slapped Sif hard, across the face.

“You are a brilliant warrior, Sif. But you are utterly stupid if you think that all I care about is a prince to warm my bed. Do not project your own desires on to me.” Eira stalked back to her saddlebags and collected them before turning and heading out of the throne room to Fandral.

XXX

Fandral took a fever in the night, and no amount of coaxing would break it. Eira exhausted her magic trying to make it leave his body. She rummaged through her bags to see if there was anything that would help. She pulled out the herbs her mother had packed and tried to recall what they were all for. She heard a clinking in the bottom of the bag and pulled out a vial. The tag on the side read “Midgard: Yarrow, St. John’s Wort”. Eira sighed in relief and stopped herself from kissing the bottle. It was an all-purpose tincture her mother had compounded. She had told Eira it could be used for almost anything and had run through the uses, and Eira was sure one of them was fever. She mixed a few drops into the broth at the bedside.

“Fandral, you must drink.” Eira held his head up and dribbled some broth into his mouth. He swallowed weakly and coughed. They repeated the process painstakingly until the broth was gone. She waited a short while and felt his forehead again. He was cooler. She leaned back in her chair and sighed, closing her eyes.

Someone cleared their throat from the door. Eira looked up. It was Thor. He stepped in and sat on a stool beside her.

“How is he?” Thor’s voice was low, and gravelly.

“He has a fever. He has not wakened yet, but I can see no reason that he will not. Perhaps in the morning.”

“You sound unsure.” He was surprised.

“Surely you do not believe me an unfailing goddess too?” She laughed bitterly. “I am not all knowing, Your Highness. Not all my remedies work.”

Thor took her hand in his, and sat quietly.

“I think you no more a goddess than I am a god. But I have seen you heal men so much worse than Fandral.” He finally said. Eira sighed.

“Never who had been cursed.” She whispered.

“But you and Loki broke the curse.” Thor was confused.

“The damage may have already been done. We must wait. I am sorry, Highness. I have no reassurance to offer you.”

“I have faith in your ability to heal my shieldbrother, Lady Eira.”

“You should go get some rest, Highness.” Eira squeezed his hand. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“First tell me why you slapped Sif.” His mouth quirked into a half grin. Eira rolled her eyes.

“Because she has the manners of a boar.” Eira complained.

“Oh?” Thor clearly expected her to elaborate.

“She cast aspersions on my character. I feel no further need to illustrate, you must just trust that I was justified, Highness.” Eira’s words were pinched and defensive. Thor looked at her fondly and smiled.

“Why do you never call me by name?” He change of subject surprised Eira and she laughed in a soft burst.

“You have never given me leave to, Highness.” Her smile was without guile and Thor was taken in.

“I have tasted a strawberry from your lips, my lady. You may use my name familiarly.” He leaned close until their heads were touching at the temples.

“I will relish it, Thor.” She sighed. He took her chin gently and kissed her mouth.

“I will see you on the morrow, Eira.” He stood and slipped from the room silently. Eira checked Fandral again and sat back on her stool. With the surge of excitement from her ride to the palace finally wearing off, she was tired, and cold, and felt so exposed in just the shift and pants she usually wore under her armour. Fandral reached out and laid his hand on her knee.

“Eira.” His voice was a rasp.

“I am here, Fandral. What need you?” She leaned forward.

“I saw you on the war field today.”

“I heal the wounded after battle.” She admitted. 

“How long have you been a Valkyrie?” He asked.

“Fandral, the wound. The fever has addled your brain.” She spoke in a soothing tone.

“Eira, I saw you taking the dead to Valhalla. I watched as you looked on me and saw life in me yet and carried on the to next man.” Every word was an effort, but he stared into her eyes as he spoke.

“You hallucinate, Fandral.” She argued helplessly.

“Why is this such a secret?”

“No one is to know the names of the chosen, Fandral.” Eira was a little desperate, and couldn’t think of how to keep Fandral from sharing her secret with everyone. He was a worse gossip than most of the women at court.

“In my fevered dreams, I saw a red-haired Valkyrie. We all have seen her. I must have seen you tending the wounded and become confused.” He squeezed her knee and closed his eyes again.

“Thank you, Fandral.” Eira breathed a sigh of relief. 

“You stink, Eira. You should borrow a dress.” He mumbled as he fell back to sleep. Eira looked down at her filthy arming shift and pants. And then wondered how Thor hadn’t noticed she was in arming clothes.


	8. Chapter 8

Eira was taking a much-deserved day away from responsibility. There were no sick at the estate, Fandral was up and walking, and there was a tentative truce in the worst of the skirmishes in Midgard. She had walked through the meadow behind her home to the peak of the hill, and lay back in the grass, just to stare at the clouds floating by. The sun was warm, and she rolled her sleeves up, and hitched her skirt to above her knees to feel the rays kiss her skin.

It was hard for her to clear her mind, though. She had been working so hard to learn healing methods other than depending on her magic that her brain continued to recite the uses of various plants, no matter how much she sought out animals and shapes in the clouds above her. When she was able to slow the churning in her head, her heart would quickly take over, leading her to think about Thor and the kisses he had stolen. She groaned in frustration. 

“Is it too much to ask to just have my mind empty of thought? Just for one day?” Eira complained to the flowers around her.

“With a mind as keen as yours, it could never be empty.” Loki pushed through the grass and dropped down beside her, cross-legged. She turned her head toward him and smiled.

“This is a surprise, Loki. What brings you here?” Eira asked, absently flipping her skirt back down over her knees. Loki smiled and picked a daisy from beside him. He started picking the petals off, and dropping them on the ground.

“I was looking for you.” He admitted. Eira sat up and faced him, drawing her knees up to her chest.

“Whatever for?” She was curious.

“Why think you? I wanted to discuss our work together on Fandral.” Loki was straightforward.

“Your magic feels different than mine.” Eira nodded.

“Yours is like nothing I’ve ever felt. It is weightless and without demands. And smells of honey.” He offered. Eira nodded.

“My magic smells? Are you sure it wasn’t me?” She laughed.

“You smelled of sweat and gore. Your magic smells of honey.” He confirmed. Eira laughed again.

“I was foul. I am lucky you were all still filthy from battle yourselves, or it would have been more obvious.” She could feel her cheeks turning red. Loki smiled, his eyes wrinkling at the corners.

“I cannot believe my brother still hasn’t realized that you are more than a healer.” He admitted.

“Yes, Thor seems quite blind to that.”

“Oh, he’s Thor now? When did this happen?” Loki quirked an eyebrow at her. Eira laughed and shook her head in amusement.

“The other night, while I watched over Fandral. He decided I could be more familiar. Since he had already kissed me.” Her heart skipped a little faster thinking of the sweetness of his kisses. The smile fell from Loki’s eyes, but Eira didn’t notice it.

“I did not realize you had become that intimate with him.” He stated, his voice flat. He dropped the daisy head from his hands, the petals all gone.

“Your brother is lovely, Loki. But that is not why you are here. Tell me about your magic. I have heard you are a master of illusions and shadow magic. Is that how you were able to pull the curse from Fandral’s flesh?” Eira asked.

“The curse was wrought from shadows, but on my own I was unable to unmake it. There was something more to it that needed the addition of your healing touch to unbind it from Fandral’s body. I am just not sure what it was.” Loki explained. Eira contemplated for a moment.

“I don’t know much of magic, Loki. I don’t even know how my magic works. But I have heard that shadow mages usually practice on their own. Could part of the curse be that the shadow master who breaks the curse would have to merely work with another practitioner of magic in order to break it?”

“It’s crude and rudimentary, but that could very well be the reason. I dislike using my magic in concert.” Loki admitted, picking at the grass in front of him. He was very fidgety, Eira observed.

“What did it feel like to you?” Eira asked.

“What did what feel like?” Loki asked, puzzled.

“When your magic coursed through me, it felt like a cool mist. It twined around my heart, and into my belly before it left through my other hand.” Eira explained. Loki looked surprised.

“Yours was not like that. Just the feeling of light and the smell and taste of honey.” Loki stopped picking at the grass and met her gaze. His eyes flashed between green and blue a little, as the sun slipped behind a cloud momentarily.

“How strange. I distinctly felt your magic taking a journey through my body. It was,” Eira paused, looking for a word, “intimate.” Loki blinked slowly and looked back at the grass.

“I offer my apology. I would not want you uncomfortable.” He spoke to the grass. Eira laughed and took his hands in hers.

“No, Loki. Don’t apologize. It wasn’t a violation. I don’t know how to describe it, but I feel I know you better for having felt it. I feel we are closer now.” She explained. “I’ve never known another who practices magic. It has been a singularity that often makes me feel lonely.” She kept hold of his hands, drawing comfort from his touch. He curled his fingers around her hands and looked into her eyes again.

Eira felt a tingling in her fingers and suddenly she and Loki were surrounded by the night sky, and all the stars in the heavens. She drew in her breath sharply, taking in the vision around her. It was as though they were floating in the cosmos. She met Loki’s gaze and just as quickly as the vision had begun, it vanished. The side of his mouth tilted up in a lazy smirk, and he raised his eyebrow. The ground below them changed to ice, and Eira felt cold. She looked around and saw icy mountains surrounding them, and snapped her head back to look at Loki again. And again, the vision faded and brought them back to the warm sunny meadow.

“That was incredible, Loki.” She breathed. “I wanted to try to touch the stars, but I was afraid if I let go of your hands I would break the spell.”

“You deserved to see what I could do, after I forced your hand with my dagger blade.” Loki referred back to the morning he’d cut himself to see her work her healing magic on him. Eira smiled.

“We didn’t actually go anywhere, did we?” She asked. Loki shook his head.

“No. I can shift perceptions. You thought we were among the stars because I put that picture in your head. You thought we were on Jotunheim for the same reason.” He explained.

“What else can you do?” She asked, eager to see more. The tales of Loki’s mischief were notorious.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, smiling.

“Can you change into someone else? Like Volstagg?” Eira thought that would be difficult, considering the immense size difference between the two men. Before her eyes, however, Loki shifted his appearance to that of Volstagg’s. Eira slipped one hand from between his, and touched his face. He even felt like Volstagg. She was astonished. Loki flipped back into himself. Eira felt a tiny shock when he changed into Volstagg and back.

“I felt your change.” She breathed. Loki nodded.

“Yes, for a shift to be believable, I would need to not be holding your hands. You are very perceptive, but even someone without magical talent would feel the pinch when I change.” Loki withdrew his hands, and cupped them in front of her. A sphere appeared in his palms, holding the entire cosmos in it.

“What a remarkable talent.” Eira breathed.

“It’s really only useful for getting into mischief.” Loki winked and made the sphere vanish. Eira laughed.

“Yes, your pranks are legendary.” Eira recalled a story of him turning Thor’s sword into a snake. Loki laughed with her. He picked up the daisy stem and held it out to her. She took it between her thumb and forefinger, narrowing her eyes in question.

“Just remember, it’s an illusion.” Loki reassured her as the stem turned into a writhing serpent. It started out the size of the stem, and grew thicker and longer. It’s head turned toward her and hissed. She shrieked and dropped the snake and watched it slither away in the grass. Eira clutched her hands to her chest.

“Will that change back to a stem?” She asked. She hated snakes.

“It already has.” Loki laughed. Eira glared at him for a moment, but couldn’t stay angry. She took a deep breath in and smelled licorice.

“Your magic smells too!” Eira exclaimed. “I can taste it! You smell of licorice.” She leaned close to Loki and took a deep breath, but he smelled only of leather and that indistinct musky scent of man.

“Licorice and honey. Interesting combination. I wonder if Fandral felt nauseated after we worked on him.” Loki pondered with a laugh. Eira smiled at the thought.

She caught a glimmer out of the corner of her eye, and looked down the hill. Thor waved as he approached. Eira felt a wave of disappointment crash over her. She was pleased to see Thor, without question, but she still wanted to question Loki about his magic, and see more of his tricks.

“Loki! Eira! I was hoping I would come across you both!” He called as he took the final steps to where they sat. He flopped down on the ground heavily, and patted Eira’s thigh with familiarity. Loki scowled.

“Well, you have found us, brother. Was there something you needed?” He was direct. Eira bit her lip to suppress a grin. Loki obviously wanted more time alone with a fellow magician himself.

“I thought we might have a celebration of Fandral’s recovery tonight. You must both be there.” Thor demanded. Eira nodded in agreement.

“Of course! I am so pleased he has healed so well.” She was excited, and immediately her thoughts turned to what to wear. She may need to visit Bryn and Hrist and Kara. If it wouldn’t have made her look mad, she would have giggled about being so concerned with her appearance, but her recent experiences serving in Valhalla made her realize that men admired her simple beauty more when she took time with her appearance. She shook her head, feeling vain, and then hoped Thor or Loki wouldn’t catch her. They were locked in a stare-down. She thought she would never understand them. They were so competitive and yet so close.

“And you, brother?” Thor asked. Loki smiled.

“You ask as though I could resist the incursion we will make into Father’s mead casks.” Loki scoffed. “I will be there.” He rose to his feet, graceful as ever and offered a hand to Eira to help her stand. Thor scrambled to his feet, offering his hand too late to be of assistance.

“Thank you, Loki. I enjoyed our time together today. We must make study of our magic again soon.” Eira squeezed his hand before releasing it. Loki nodded.

“Can I walk you home? I’m sure you’ll want to prepare for the evening.” He offered. 

“I find I do, Loki. Thank you.” Eira agreed. Thor linked arms with Eira and Loki, effectively separating them.

“Let us make our way then. Time is wasting.” Thor shot Loki a smug look of triumph that Eira completely missed.


	9. Chapter 9

Brynhildr and Kara had been waiting at her home, talking with her mother when Eira returned with Thor and Loki. She bid the brothers goodbye, and stole into the workshop where she could hear her friends talking with her mother.

“Eira, you are just in time. I was telling your mother about this new plant and Bryn and I found while you were occupied healing Fandral.” Kara pointed to a large plant lying across Halla’s workbench. It had a bouquet of white flowers clustered together amongst its leaves that sprayed out from a common stem like a parasol. Eira looked at it closely, and felt the leaves. She smelled the flowers, which had a faintly sweet aroma.

“What is it, Mother?” Eira asked. Her plant identification skills were still weak. Halla smiled.

“You won’t believe it. We brought it simply because of the name.” Kara laughed. “It’s called Valkyrie’s Weed!”

“What is it for then?” Eira laughed. Kara flushed and Brynhildr laughed.

“It stays the pains from your flux, and also keeps men safe from the seduction of witches.” Halla explained.

“I do not understand how the name makes sense.” Eira was confused.

“Midgardians think we often seduce men to Valhalla, helping them to choose to die of their war wounds, rather than fight their wounds and live. A man who carries the root will not be lured by our apparent magic. And of course, if we are seducing their menfolk, we must be ensuring we are in happy condition, and not pained by our fluxes.” Brynhildr laughed.

“We have much attributed to us.” Eira stated, shaking her head.

“We thought you and Halla would want it for your garden, to see if it truly helps with the pain from our cycles. I would happily lure a Midgardian man to his death to be free from pain then.” Kara laughed and Brynhildr and Eira joined in agreement. Halla finished writing some information about the plant in her journal and took it to the garden to plant.

Kara and Brynhildr were about to leave when Eira remembered she had been planning on riding out to them.

“Before you go, sisters.” She started as they turned to the door. “I am in need of assistance. I must dress for a feast at the palace tonight. I have little to wear.” Eira felt a pang of desperation. She truly was not in possession of a single court dress. 

“Lead us to your rooms, that we may see your clothing.” Kara demanded. Eira led them to where she stored her clothes, and Brynhildr and Kara began to rummage. Soon they had thrown a number of items across her bed. Brynhildr rummaged in a basket of jewelry while Kara sorted the items on the bed.

“This is your nicest undertunic, Eira. Look how white it is! Like you’ve never worn it. And the embroidery is so fine and beautiful. With this red hangarok, you will look stunning. We must put your hair up though; a lady never leaves it down at court. Bryn, does she have hair pins in that basket?” Kara tilted her head and appraised Eira carefully before shoving her down in a chair. She found a comb and started working through her hair, pulling and tugging and generally making Eira wish she could just leave her hair in the messy braid she preferred. Brynhildr handed Eira a pile of hairpins to hold and disappeared from the room without a word. 

Kara finished tugging on Eira’s hair and then helped her change her clothing without destroying the careful work. She took the brooches and bead festoons that Brynhildr had chosen and pinned the straps of the hangarok to itself. Brynhildr swept back into the room breathless.

“I remembered that tunic and hangarok, Eira. It was the one you wore when you were welcomed to the Valkyries.” Bryn spoke, her eyes dancing. Girls did not begin to ride with the Valkyries until their courses had been regular for over a year, at which time a ceremony was held to welcome the new rider to the dozen. Eira hadn’t been far past childhood when her flux first became regular, so her special ceremonial dress still fit. And because of the beauty and expense of it, she had never felt comfortable wearing it for treating the sick. It had only been worn the single time. Bryn pulled a long rectangle of green wool from her pouch and unfolded it. She turned it so that Kara and Eira could see it. 

It was covered in embroidery and appliqué. There was a large golden tree at the centre of the panel that Eira recognized was Yggdrasil, it’s limbs and roots and twisted and knotted. Surrounding the tree eternal was a beautiful circle of embroidered knots in all the colours found in the Bifrost. There were tiny gems sewn into the knots of the rainbow bridge that glinted when the sun hit them. Eira was breathtaken, and put a hand to her chest.

“The embroidery on your clothing was so beautiful, Eira. Is so beautiful, that I knew I had to make this panel as a gift to you to complement your hangarok, and the cuffs of your tunic. I poured years into it, working on it bit by bit, hoping you would find the honour to join us in your calling. Every time you rode out and escorted the dead, I added to it, hoping one day you would join us completely and there would be a time for me to gift this to you. And now you have. So this is my gift to you, sister, on your commitment to the sisters of Valhalla.” Brynhildr explained, and then stepped forward to pin it under the brooches of Eira’s hangarok.

“You mean for me to keep this?” Eira breathed.

“She has made a panel for each of us, Eira. This one is yours.” Kara smiled. Eira felt tears flood her eyes, and her lip began to tremble.

“I know not what I have done to deserve such love from you, my sisters. But I am honoured and glad for it.” She dashed the tears away and ran her hand across the beautiful handwork of the panel.

“All you have done is accepted your calling, finally. With grace and courage.” Brynhildr leaned forward and kissed her cheeks.

“You now look fitting of your role, Valkyrie. You are among the most beautiful in all the realms for the hardship of your labours adds to the flame of your allure.” Kara laughed. It was a line repeated when a woman was welcomed as a Valkyrie, and one Eira had forgotten. Eira laughed with her friends. 

“You must be off, Eira, or you will be late to the merriment!” Brynhildr started, looking at the sun low on the horizon. Eira rushed to finish readying herself before riding to the palace.

XXX

The gates of the palace swung open as soon as Eira came near them, and a palace guard stepped out to greet her.

“Lady Eira. His Highness bids me escort you to the feast hall.” He offered her an arm. Eira took it wordlessly and let the guard lead her through the maze of the palace. When he led her into the hall, he nodded to Loki and turned to Eira. Eira saw him right away, but could not see Thor amongst the people gathered.

“Thank you.” She offered.

“I will leave you now, Lady Eira. Good night.” The guard bowed lightly and left. Loki stepped up to her side.

“You are a vision, Eira.” He complimented her. She blushed and looked around the room. She felt underdressed. Many of the women had more formal attire on, flowing gowns with trailing skirts. Eira’s dress, while beautiful, was a more functional garment. She said as much to Loki and he scoffed.

“You wear the traditional dress of our people, and you bring honour to it. You will not be the only one dressed thusly. Watch. You will see.” Loki foretold. Eira glanced around the room again, pretending to be admiring the other women’s dress, but actually looking for Thor. Fandral approached her, a light limp only visible to her barely slowing him. He threw his arms around her familiarly and kissed her loudly on both cheeks.

“Lady Eira, my salvation. I know Thor intended this as a celebration of my recovery, but I truly feel the honours tonight belong to you. And to Loki, of course.” Fandral nodded at Loki. Loki smirked his infuriating half grin at his friend.

“But more to Eira because she is a pretty girl, correct?” Loki teased. Fandral laughed and clapped him on the shoulder in agreement before walking to the mead casks to refill his drink.

“Loki, I hate to ask, but –“

“Thor has not arrived yet, Eira. He frequently plans these gatherings, but rarely makes it before the food is served.” Loki interrupted.

“Oh, I was confused, the guard said he had been ordered to escort me here.” Eira puzzled aloud.

“By my orders, Eira. I knew you were unfamiliar with the palace.” Loki sounded highly irritated.

“I am sorry to be a burden.” She stiffened.

“You mistake my ire, Eira. I’ve no quarrel with you. Just with the oaf I call brother for leaving you to flounder on your own.” Loki softened, and slipped his arm into hers, patting her with his free hand. “Come, there are many here for you to meet, and if Thor is so foolish as to be late, I will gladly do the honours.”

Loki took Eira around to the small groups of people socializing and introduced her. It was funny, and at the same time awkward for her, as he took great delight in informing people that the Midgardians were calling her a goddess. Some of the people were overly impressed with the introduction and immediately became obsequious, which delighted Loki even further, but mortified Eira. It was during one of those awkward introductions that she felt an arm slip through her free arm and looked over to see Thor smiling down at her. 

“I must apologize. I got torn away to assist the Allfather with a task.” Thor kissed her cheek in greeting. Eira flushed and looked at her feet and then up to Loki, who suddenly dropped her arm. His easy-going smile vanished and the self-satisfied smirk he so often wore when he was annoyed appeared.

“I hope you have a lovely time, Eira. It was nice to mind you while my brother was busy.” He dipped his head in a mocking bow and backed away from the people they had been standing with. 

“Loki, please wait.” Eira reached out to stop him, but he was too quick, and in a flash was away from them. She stared after him, wanting to stay with him but not really knowing why. He was moody and this was another time when his temperament hurt her. She bit her lip in frustration and watched as he made his way across the room. Thor squeezed her arm.

“Eira, don’t borrow trouble by worrying about Loki when he is in one of his moods. Come, you must try the mead.” He excused them from the couple that Eira and Loki had been talking to, and steered them toward the mead casks. He served her first, and then led her to the head table and seated her beside him for the feast. The meal was every bit as decadent as the feasts she served in Valhalla. Between courses, Eira tried to get Loki’s attention from where he sat on the other side of Thor, but had no luck. He was determinedly ignoring her.

XXX

The feast had been cleared away, and the room was filled with boisterous, socializing people. Loki had been right. When Odin and Frigga had entered for the meal, Frigga was wearing a similar outfit to her own. During the meal, Eira had been reassured by seeing many women dressed more traditionally. The elaborate dresses seemed to be more favoured by younger women seeking flirtation. 

Fandral was positively draped in long, flowy dresses every time she saw him. Thor was deep in conversation with someone whose name she’d forgotten immediately upon introduction, and she cast her gaze around the room, seeking familiar faces again. She smiled as Fandral caught her eye. He waved, winked and patted his knee in invitation. She laughed, unlinked her arm from Thor’s and made her way to where Fandral sat. She gave a low mocking curtsey as she approached, a broad grin on her face.

“I believe you beckoned my presence, dear Fandral?” She teased. He laughed and pulled her into his lap.

“I am in my cups, my Eira. Should I apologize now for how I plan to love you?” Fandral flirted in response.

“I somehow think I have little to fear from you, fallegurstrákur.” She laughed. Fandral laughed and kissed her cheek.

“You admit you find me handsome, Eira!” He crowed. “I hold out hope that you might fall to my charms!” 

“Everyone thinks you are handsome, Fandral.” She sighed, shaking her head. Fandral laughed again and waved a serving girl over.

“We need mead, for tonight we celebrate my resurrection at the hands of a goddess!” Fandral’s voice boomed across the room. Thor looked over, finally noticing Eira had excused herself and raised an eyebrow in question at her. She shook her head. She assumed he was wondering if she was content. When he nodded in return and turned back to his conversation, she knew she was correct. The serving girl handed a mead cup to Eira, and refilled Fandral’s large tankard from a pitcher she also carried. One of the girls who was hanging on Fandral’s every attention took careful assessment of Eira and spoke.

“You dress so traditionally, Lady Eira. You must be from the country.” The girl quirked an eyebrow at Eira’s dress and smirked. Eira immediately felt awkward, and stiffened. Fandral caught the slight and rubbed a hand on Eira’s back.

“Yes, Herleif. Eira’s manner of dress reminds men what they fight for, and makes them long for home when they are on campaign.” Fandral’s voice never lost its genial tone, but the words must have stung like a slap. The girl rolled her eyes and stormed away, her gaggle of friends following, leaving Eira and Fandral alone.

“Thank you, Fandral.” Eira murmured.

“Tis the truth. Whoever crafted your story panel is a remarkable talent. The gems make it shimmer just like the Bifrost at sunrise.” Fandral traced his fingers along the circular knotwork, stopping before he accidentally touched her breasts. Eira laughed again.

“For all you like people to think you are a rake, I suspect you are quite noble, Fandral.”

“Don’t let the ladies find out, my friend.” Fandral grinned, emphasizing the last word. “I would make a terrible husband, and they would suddenly seek to be wed.”

“I can’t see you banking a home fire for long, Fandral.” Loki appeared beside Fandral and Eira. Eira smiled broadly at his reappearance. She rose from her place on Fandral’s lap.

“Loki, I’ve been trying to track you down! Well, until Fandral distracted me with his huge ego and pretty words.” She reached for her friend’s arm. Loki offered it and excused them from Fandral, who was left quite sadly, alone. Eira knew it wouldn’t be for long. Loki led her to the cool air of the balcony. It was remarkably quiet.

“I owe you an apology, Eira.” Loki began. “I was unfair to you when my brother arrived. My words were unkind to you.”

“Loki, please, it-“

“Let me finish, Eira. Had those words been used against me, I would have felt like a burden. You are anything but. I am just frustrated that Thor feels it necessary to interrupt us so often. There is much I would learn about your magic, and I think much I could teach you. And it seems every time we are beginning to get somewhere, he interrupts.” Loki explained. Eira smiled.

“You don’t need to apologize, Loki. I would like very much to learn from you. As fond as I am of Thor, I was also frustrated when we were interrupted today.” Eira squeezed his arm compassionately. Loki smiled at her.

“You are better than either of us deserve. I hope he understands that.”

“It would seem that all the men of Asgard are determined to dizzy me with their flattery. What have I done to deserve such praise?” She pondered. Loki turned to face her, and placed a hand on her cheek.

“You are a goddess.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.


	10. Chapter 10

The war field was mired in muck. The skies had opened early in the battle, showering cold, icy rain down on the combatants. Lightning cracked across the skies, followed by peal after peal of thunder. Eira could hear the fervent prayers of both sides of the battle praying to Thor to deliver them, to stop the raining sleet. For whatever reason, Thor was raging. 

She huddled with her shieldsisters for warmth, awaiting the battle’s end. They had heard the call early in the conflict, and ridden out in anticipation. But the battle was dragging. The weather was not the least of the reasons it continued, there were other factors at play. The men seemed determined to annihilate one another, and every time one side gained the upper hand, something would set them back and the other side would regain the advantage. 

From Eira’s vantage point, on a hill above the fighting, she could see lightning strikes, and could hear Thor’s battle cry, calling the thunder. The earth shook when he struck it with Mjolnir, throwing men off their feet and momentarily ceasing the fighting. All eyes looked to Thor, who appeared every inch the god the mortal men thought he was. He was soaked to the skin, covered in mud and carnage. His armour flashed with the lightning that still crackled above his head. He held Mjolnir aloft to keep the attention of the men surrounding him.

“Enough!” His yell reverberated across the field. “There has been abundant slaughter this day, and for what?” He pointed Mjolnir toward the banner of one of the chieftains leading the assault.

“This man had his wife stolen by his kinsman! He seeks vengeance for the loss of his pride more than the loss of his woman. And that vengeance has led you all here, to die for his cause. I will tolerate it no longer. Bring forth his wife, that this might be over. The Valkyries have work to do!” Thor laid Mjolnir on the ground to emphasize that he had called a truce.

Eira looked to the opposite side of the war field, and saw the woman in question being led out of a tent against her will. She was fighting, and reaching, screaming to not have to return to her husband. Eira took a step forward, but Brynhildr grabbed her arm to stop her.

“Do not get involved, Eira. You do not know the story.” Bryn warned her. Eira stepped back into the huddled warmth of the other Valkyries, but her heart ached. The poor woman clearly did not want to return to her husband. It was no wonder that the other chieftain was willing to fight a war for her. Hogun stepped over to Thor and whispered something in his ear. Thor looked to where Eira’s gaze was fixed, and watched as the woman flailed ineffectively against the soldiers carrying her toward her husband. He stepped forward and stopped the men. A hand on the woman’s arm stilled her, and Eira watched as he spoke to her, not hearing. Her spirit lifted, thinking that surely Thor would not cause her to go somewhere she didn’t want to be. Thor removed his winged helmet and wiped his hand across his brow as the woman gestured toward the side she had come from. Her every movement was pleading. She fell to her knees and clung to Thor’s boots. He gently assisted her back to standing and shook his head. Eira strained forward, desperate to hear what was happening.

The woman screamed again and grabbed a dagger from the belt of one of the men who had been carrying her. Before Thor or anyone else could react, she slit her throat, dropping in front of him in a gout of blood. The spray of her blood covered his face, dripping through his beard. Without any emotion that Eira could see, he pulled the tail of his red cloak up and wiped his face before replacing his helm on his head and turning away from the woman’s dead body. Eira pulled away from Brynhildr, desperate to save the woman.

“Eira, no!” Hrist grabbed her around the waist and spun Eira to face her.

“She is dying! I can heal her!” Eira cried. Hrist held her tight as she fought, punching and kicking wildly at her friend, trying to get away.

“Eira, no! Eira!” Kara slapped her, and Eira stopped fighting, stunned momentarily.

“You cannot save that woman. She is gone.” Brynhildr spoke, her voice like steel. Eira’s face was wet with hot angry tears and she shook her head.

“No. I can save her!”

“To what end, Eira? That she might go back to a husband she so plainly doesn’t love? So she can run away again, and cause another war? Eira, let Hel have her. As awful as it may be, she will be free from a man she wanted so little to be with that death was preferable. Show her mercy.” Brynhildr held Eira’s face in both hands, and stared deep into Eira’s eyes. Eira blinked away the tears, realizing her friend was right. She hung her head in resignation. Hrist’s restraining arms loosened and became a comforting embrace.

“This life weighs on you too hard, with your healing gift. But we are the only truly immortal, Eira. Death comes to everyone else, eventually. She was brave, and chose her own time.” Hrist’s words were soft in her ear.

The horns sounded the retreat of the armies, and the women waited for their turn to glean the field. The skies began to clear, and the sleet that was falling slowed, and the ceased, signaling Thor, and his companions, had departed.

XXX

Eira woke with a start, sweaty and uncomfortable. She looked around her room, but saw no reason for her to have wakened so abruptly. She blinked to clear her mind, and scenes from the battlefield came flooding back to her, the fighting, the sleet, the woman killing herself. She knew sleep would be a stranger to her for the rest of the night. She slipped from her sleeping quarters across to her mother’s workshop and was surprised to see Halla sitting at a bench by the light of a candle.

“Mother, what keeps you awake?” She lowered herself onto a stool and poured some ale into a cup.

“I would ask you the same, daughter.” Halla yawned. “I find my back is aching more. What is your tale?”

“I am haunted by the war field.” Eira admitted. Halla placed a hand on Eira’s, rubbing her thumb across the back of her hand. It was comforting.

“Jarni used to slip in here for the same reason after battles. He would drink all my good ale, and I would find him sleeping under the table in the morning.” Halla laughed.

“Thor was there today. The battle was so drawn out, and he put a stop to it.”

“He will be a good king someday.” Halla spoke.

“The reason these Midgardian fools were fighting was over a woman. She had been taken from one man by another. Thor demanded she be returned.” Eira explained.

“That is sound judgment, Eira. What haunts you about this?” Halla’s brows knit together in concern.

“She did not want to return to her husband. She fought two soldiers, kicking, and screaming. She was terrified to return to her husband; you could see it on her face, even from across the field. Thor stopped her, spoke to her. I thought he would hear her reason, allow her to return to the man she preferred. He must have condemned her to return to her husband, as she stole a dagger and slit her throat to spite his commands.” Eira shuddered, remembering the image of the blood spraying into Thor’s face, and the callous way he wiped it away and turned his back.

“Eira, you know not the whole story. The prince has always been kind and generous to me, to your brother. And now to you, he pays fond attention. He is not a cruel, indifferent man.” Halla reassured her. “Go now, and seek rest. She is at rest, away from the man she feared. Is that not what is best?”

“I cared not for the way he chose her path for her.” Eira murmured as she stood. She passed her mother, and dropped a kiss on her cheek before returning to bed.

XXX

“I have brought you a plant from Vanaheim, Eira.” Loki placed a small round leaf into the fountain. “It is some sort of lake weed. The Vanir say it cures blindness.”

Eira looked up from the leaves she was grinding in her mortar, and placed it and the pestle on the lip of the fountain beside her. She lifted the plant and saw the waterborne roots. The leaf was shiny, almost waxy with protection from becoming waterlogged.

“Blindness? What is it called?” She gently released it back into the fountain, careful to keep it from the spray.

“Hothr’s Redemption.”

“Thank you, Loki.” Eira smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Loki’s own eyes narrowed in perception.

“Something troubles you.”

“It is just something from the last battle on Midgard we attended.” Eira shrugged. “I have been reassured that I fret for no reason.”

Loki sat down on the ground at her feet, and looked up at her.

“The woman.” He stated. Eira nodded and went back to grinding the leaves in the mortar.

“Her death haunts me.”

“She is safe, Eira. Free from the abuse she suffered at her husband’s hand. He would have killed her himself, eventually.” Loki’s deep timbre was unmoved.

“Then why would Thor have sent her back?” Eira questioned. 

“Because she belonged to him. And so that was where she should dwell.” Loki shrugged.

“Did she not have a choice?” Eira was stunned.

“She did. She chose to end her life.” Loki looked as puzzled by Eira’s questions as she was by his answers.

“Should she not have had the choice to live, away from her husband?” Eira could hear her voice rising in agitation.

“That is not the way of men and women in Midgard. They rarely marry for love, Eira. She was probably promised to him to seal a political agreement, or to improve the standing on her family. Or to improve his standing, depending on who her father was.” Loki was indifferent in his lesson.

“Another reason to see my calling as a blessing. I will never be used as a political pawn.” Eira spat. Loki smiled.

“You are courting the crown prince of Asgard, Eira. You are already a political pawn.” He smirked and Eira felt the urge to smack it from his face.

“Did you only come to bring me the plant, Loki? I have much to do today.” She raised an eyebrow, attempting to dismiss him.

“I hope that magic lessons are in your plans. I’ve ensured we have the afternoon free of my brother’s interruptions.”

“Then let’s talk of magic instead of political intrigues.” Eira’s smile was filled with relief and she noted that the returned smile from Loki was without the disdain he so frequently displayed.


	11. Chapter 11

“Focus your thoughts, Eira!” Loki’s voice was taut with frustration. Eira closed her eyes and sighed. It was useless for her to try other forms of magic. She couldn’t get anything right, and said as much. Loki just placed his hands on hers and made her try again. They were seated, knee to knee, on the ground in the garden near the fountain, Eira’s previous project abandoned on the fountain’s edge.

“It is no use, Loki. I’m hopeless.” Eira was close to whining. She flung herself backward into the grass and focused on the clouds flitting past.

“Eira, you are blocking yourself off. This is a magic that any Aesir can master. Any of us. Not just those who have an aptitude for it. Clear your mind.” Loki was trying to be patient. Eira could tell she was taxing him to his limits though.

“How do I do that?”

“Think of nothing.” Loki snapped. Eira laughed.

“That’s not possible and you know it.” She argued. Loki made a strangled sound of exasperation. He looked as though he was ready to throttle her. Eira pursed her lips in concentration, thinking about thinking about nothing. Which was really actually thinking of something, she thought.

“Then think about one thing. One thing that can focus your energy into one spot.” Loki suggested. Eira immediately thought of Thor’s kisses and blushed. That was hardly an appropriate focus, and she felt embarrassed by it. But the image of Thor’s lips on hers returned, bumping away all the thoughts about thinking about nothing. So she focused on the kisses instead.

“Imagine a ball of energy between your hands.” Loki’s voice was soothing again. He’d noticed she was redoubling her efforts. She focused all her mind’s images on the space between her hands, converting kisses to a ball of light. She was so focused on the space that she almost missed the ball that flickered into being. 

“There!” She exclaimed, and the light flashed away again. Loki nodded.

“Yes, try again. This time redouble your focus when the light appears.” He cupped his hands around hers. Eira cleared her mind of everything except that first time Thor kissed her, the taste of the strawberries, the sensual firmness of his lips on her. She poured all the emotion that came from that kiss into creating the ball of energy Loki had described. It exploded into life in her hands, strong and brilliant. Loki dropped his hands from hers and backed away, eyes wide. Eira continued to focus on the energy ball. It grew to the edge of her fingers and thrummed, waiting for more space.

“Now what?” Eira asked. 

“Now you must learn to sustain it. Try keeping it without thinking about your catalyst.” Loki prompted. Eira let the memory of Thor’s kiss drift away, and focused on the ball of light in her hands. It flickered, and dimmed. She leaned forward and glared at it and forced it back to brightness. 

“What can I do with this?” Eira couldn’t understand the point of the exercise really.

“Anything.” Loki shrugged.

“What do you mean, anything?”

“You can turn this into an illusion, or a curse, or a blessing. You could use it as protection, from attack or the elements. You can use it to change your appearance, or change someone’s perception of you. You could probably use it to heal someone, with less work.” He suggested. Eira looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

“I could use this for healing?” She asked. “Let me try.”

“You want me to wound myself for you again?” Loki laughed.

“I do.”

“Only if you promise to keep the pain at bay.” He bargained. But he didn’t wait for her to agree, he simply drew his dagger and slashed his forearm again. Blood welled to the surface. Eira moved the energy sphere over the cut. She stretched her hands apart, until the sphere was as long as the cut in Loki’s arm, and pushed it down into the wound, focusing on a painless repair. As the sphere entered Loki’s skin, it ruptured, pouring energy over the wound and knocking Eira onto her back, and winding her in the process. She blinked and tried to catch her breath.

“Did it work, or do I need to get up and heal you how I usually do?” She asked from her place, prone on the ground. Loki didn’t say anything and Eira couldn’t hear him breathing. She scrambled to her knees and crawled over to where Loki was laying. His eyes were wide open and he looked stunned. Eira grabbed his arm and checked the wound. It wasn’t completely healed, and she laid her hand across it and concentrated with what little energy she had left to heal the cut. She laid a hand across Loki’s brow.

“Loki, you frighten me. Please, say something.” Eira appealed, gently smacking his cheek to rouse him. Loki took a deep breath in and shook his head, his eyes refocusing on Eira’s face. She leaned back and helped him back to seated. As she checked his arm again, Loki wordlessly pushed the hair from her face, rested a hand on her cheek.

“We will need to practice more. You have much power, but no control.” His voice was low and husky, his breathing still laboured.

“My apologies to you, Loki. You know I would never harm you intentionally.” Eira was filled with panic. Loki was unsettled and looked a little like a horse had run him down. 

“The emotions we use to channel our energy can profoundly affect the strength of the magic we produce, Eira. But it can also affect the way the recipient of the magic feels.” Loki warned, and smoothed his dark hair away from his face. Eira nodded and looked at her hands. She was suddenly nervous about what Loki may have learned about her feelings for Thor because of the force of the sphere. 

“I was not aware of that. That is not the way my healing magic works.” Eira protested. Loki stood and dusted himself off. Eira scrambled to her feet as well. He straightened his coat, but before he pulled his sleeve down, Eira stopped him, to reassess the spot on his forearm that he had cut open. She ran a finger down the nearly invisible line in amazement.

“It was a remarkable success for your first attempt. I did not think you would be able to control the sphere for healing.” Loki admitted. Eira’s eyes shot up to meet his, surprised.

“Then why did you allow that you would cut yourself again?” Eira was astonished. Loki rolled his sleeve down and took her hands in his. He tilted his head and assessed her calmly. Before she knew what was happening, he took her face in his hands and kissed her with more hunger than Thor ever had. Eira felt the pull to respond and leaned into him, but almost as quickly pulled away, her hand flying to her mouth. Loki’s breath was rapid and shallow again. She took a step back and her legs bumped into the fountain’s edge.

“Eira, please, I can explain.” Loki reached for her, but she darted to one side, avoiding his touch.

“Why would you do –“

“Eira, what in the name of all the Norns were you thinking about when you created that sphere, that it would fill me so completely with the need of you?” Loki looked lost and puzzled. And still very desperate to kiss her again.

“We are done for today, Loki, you must go.” Eira tried to avoid his question. Loki stepped forward so quickly that Eira had no change to move away from him without leaping into the fountain. He ran a hand down her arm, tangling his fingers in her own when he reached her hand.

“Eira, please. Tell me what you thought of to create your sphere.” He pleaded. Eira placed took his other hand in hers and closed her eyes, afraid to look at him as she spoke.

“I was thinking about kissing Thor.” She admitted, knowing how terrible it must have sounded. Loki wrenched his hands from hers and turned away. “Loki, please do not hate me. You are among my dearest of friends. You are my secret keeper.” Tears sprang to her eyes. Loki turned and looked at her, his face a mask of calm indifference.

“Of course I do not hate you, Eira.” His old disapproving smirk twisted his lips. It had been so long since it had been directed her way that seeing it sent a stab of pain to her heart. With a murmured goodbye, Loki departed from the garden. Eira stood rooted to the spot, unable to move until she heard the hoof falls of Loki’s horse departing. She then collapsed back to the grass, sobbing.  
XXX

Eira couldn’t stop herself from repeating the moment Loki kissed her over and over again in her mind as she repaired her armouring shirt. She had soaked it in the crushed leaves of the soapwort to clean the filth and stench from it, and allowed it to dry in the sun, bleaching the worst of the rust stains from her armour out of it. She thought it might be the last time she would be able to repair the torn seams, as the linen was wearing thin in places. She lost herself in the memory of Loki’s kiss, again, and stabbed the needle into her finger.

“Hel take this infernal shirt!” She threw it across the garden. She stood and stamped her foot, letting out a growl and sucking her finger.

“This shirt looks like it has had hard enough a life without you consigning it to Hel, Eira.” Thor’s laughter boomed from where he stooped to pick up the shirt. Eira’s heart stopped. There was no way to believe the garment was anything other than an arming shirt. She rushed over and snatched it away.

“I am distracted today and my fingers bear the burden of it.” She excused herself. Thor laughed again, bringing her free hand to his lips.

“I have missed you. You have been hiding here.” He accused her, his eyes warm. “Repairing others garments, by the looks of things.” Eira dropped the shirt into the basket that held the rest of her arming clothing that needed repairs.

“I have been busy.” She admitted.

“Fandral says my suit lacks spirit, and I have bored you into lassitude.” He winked. Eira laughed.

“No, Thor. My studies have kept me busy.”

“Loki said he has been helping you tame your magic.”

“After a manner, yes. He hasn’t come in a number of days.” She admitted.

“It is good for him to have a friend such as you. Your goodness is such that it might keep his mischief to its least harmless modes.” Thor laughed. Eira cringed inwardly. Loki hadn’t been to see her since the incident with the kiss.

“What brings you to me this day, Thor?” Eira changed the subject, forcing a coy smile on her face. Thor pulled her into his arms and trailed kissed from her ear to her neck. She shivered and pulled away. He tipped his head towards her and caught her mouth with a gentle kiss.

“I have missed you. Can a man not miss a pretty girl?” Thor teased. “I am heading a campaign to Alfheim. The Allfather desires a treaty with the Light Elves. I wanted to see you before I left. I would discuss our courtship.”

“Will you be gone long?” Eira asked, careful to mask her disappointment.

“I am unsure. I hope to be back soon.” Thor shrugged.

“I hope the same. We see so little of one another.” She lamented.

“And that is what I wanted to discuss, Eira.” Thor sat on the edge of the fountain and gestured for her to sit beside him. He took both her hands in his and looked into her eyes, the very picture of seriousness. Eira’s heart constricted, and she worried he had perceived the interaction between her and Loki.

“You make me nervous.” She admitted. Thor laughed again and kissed her hands.

“There is nothing to fear, Eira. I find myself taken so completely by your beauty and grace. Your intelligence is refreshing. I would hope that on my return we might begin to discuss a bride-price.” He stated, without preamble. Eira’s heart began to pound, hard in her chest. 

“Bride-price?” She gasped. “Do you, do you seek to wed me, Your Highness?” She was overwhelmed with shock. Thor’s smile softened, and his eyes wrinkled at the edges. He leaned close until his forehead touched hers familiarly.

“I seek to wed you, Lady Eira.” He confirmed. A single tear dropped from Eira’s eyes, landing on Thor’s hand. He pulled back, puzzled. “This makes you sad?”

Eira’s head snapped up and she shook it quickly.

“No, no, Thor. Quite the contrary. Nothing would make me happier.” She stumbled over her words. “I will need the Allfather’s blessing, Thor.”

“He is my father. He will bless us.” Thor was matter-of-fact. 

“Of course.” Eira agreed, wondering secretly if Odin would bless their union or not. Thor leaned close and kissed her again, leaving her breathless. He pulled a leather string from the pouch on his belt, and untangled it. There was a small metal pendant dangling from it.

“The Midgardians wear these to show their faith in me, to show their belief in my power. I would have you wear it, not to show faith or belief, but to show that you belong to me.” He tied it around her neck. Eira placed a hand on it, and felt it. It was a perfect little hammer. She laughed.

“I will wear it with honour.” She blushed and met his eyes. He leaned close and kissed her again, a lingering touch that left her heart in her throat and her chest short of air.

“I will try to steal away and visit. Father says the visit may take weeks.” Thor kissed her again, gently teasing the corners of her mouth with his tongue. Eira pulled him close and deepened the kiss, closing her eyes and linking her arms behind his head. He ran a hand up her back to her ribcage and pulled back reluctantly.

“Be safe, my love.” Eira uttered. Thor nodded.

“Until we meet again, ástvinur.” He kissed her forehead and departed.


	12. Chapter 12

Diplomacy with the Light Elves was unsuccessful, Eira reflected as she stared across the battlefield. Incredibly unsuccessful if the number of bodies littering the field was any indication. She had been transporting the dead since early in the battle, their bodies too numerous to wait until the battle’s end. It felt as though both sides had unlimited warriors at their disposal, and just kept sending wave after wave into the breach.

For the first time since she had actively began fulfilling her duty as a Valkyrie, Eira saw shieldmaidens on the war field. A whole unit of them fought for the Light Elves, and acquitted themselves with honour and valour. Eira and the other Valkyries had needed to be more alert than they usually would have been though because as the battle continued to rage around them, in the confusion some men were assuming they were Light Elf warriors, and attacking.

In the pandemonium of battle, Eira found the energy sphere Loki had taught her to create to be exceedingly helpful. As she dashed amongst the wounded, looking for the dead, she was able to send off short discharges of healing energy to the wounded she encountered, helping to stay their agony and discomfort until a healer could get to them without detracting for her duties. During the few lulls the Valkyries had, she would seek out other wounded, and lay yarrow dressings across their injuries, tying them off quickly with strips of linen.

She held an Asgardian warrior’s arm in her hand, murmuring soothing words as she wrapped a long gash on his upper arm. She only had time to slow the flow of blood, so she held her hand across the dressing and forced the skin to bind together. The man watched her in awe. His eyes suddenly widened and he pulled her down on top of him as Thor’s hammer flew through the space where her head had been.

“He thinks you attack me! You must run, Valkyrie!” He exclaimed. Eira grabbed up her spear and shield and did as the man bid, running as fast as she could through the tangle of wounded and dead men, hoping to reach her horse to get further away from Thor. 

The hammer slammed into her back, knocking her to the ground. It was strike that would have killed a normal warrior, but she had the advantage of the Valkyrie’s immortality, and was merely winded by the blow. She scrabbled back to her feet, pulling herself up with her spear but Thor was on her before she could fully rise, beating her back into the ground from behind. 

“You would win the coward’s way, attacking a man already down?” Thor spat, pulling her head up by the braid, and holding his dagger across her throat. The warrior she had healed was right; Thor thought she was attacking him. He dropped a knee across her back to still her struggles.

“I was healing him, you fool!” She growled. The way he had her pinned had left him somewhat exposed, and in her desperation to not be harmed, particularly not by Thor, she drove her elbow back into his crotch with as much force as she could muster. He dropped the dagger and let go of her braid, rolling away from her in obvious agony. She scramble to her feet again, and grabbed her spear. Thor rolled onto his back, still in pain, but managed to reach Mjolnir and swung it at her as he pushed himself back to his feet. Eira knew there was to be no winner in the conflict. She could not die, and he would never yield unless he was wounded too direly to be able to pursue her. It was a gamble, but she knew she would have to strike him down enough that he would not continue his assault. 

He took a pained step toward her, his eyes clouded over with rage. He began to spin Mjolnir at his wrist. Lightning crackled directly above their heads. Eira took a deep breath and prepared herself, holding her spear parallel to the ground in front of her, ready to strike. She saw Huginn and Muninn, Odin’s ravens, circling nearby.

“Forgive me, Allfather!” She yelled and thrust her spear at Thor’s abdomen. Her stomach turned as the spear broke through Thor’s armour and lanced into his belly. His hammer stilled, and dropped to the ground, and both his hands reached for the spear. Eira pulled it out quickly and ran toward the treeline where Fleygur waited with her healing kit. She threw her weapon, shield and helm down and grabbed the saddlebag with haste, turning and running back to Thor as quickly as her legs would carry her. She dropped to her knees a few feet from him, sliding through the dirt to reach him. Her leg armour shifted and her pants tore as she skidded toward him, the rocky ground tearing into her flesh. She tore open the bag and grabbed a large handful of yarrow and pressed it against the entry wound. Thor’s hand came up and cupped her face.

“Eira, the battle yet rages. What are you doing here?” He asked, drawing a deep, ragged breath.

“You are wounded, my love.” She dismissed the question as she unbuckled his breastplate at the sides and shoulders. She lifted it off carefully, disrupting the yarrow. The wound began to bleed more profusely with the armour off. 

“Did I get the shieldmaiden?” His hand dropped to the ground, feeling for his dagger. Eira stilled his hand with her own.

“You attacked a Valkyrie, you fool. You couldn’t have won.” She chided him, and continued to work at removing armour to get at the wound. She quickly cut away his arming shirt, and held the yarrow against his flesh. She took a deep breath and focused her mind. The noise of the war field dropped away, the pain of the jagged pebbles embedded in her knees faded away, the sensation of the wind filling her cloak and blowing her hair out of the braid that held it ebbed, leaving nothing in her mind but her healing hands and the wound she had inflicted on Thor. 

She had dealt with spear wounds so many times before, she knew the first thing to look for was bile leaking from the guts. She washed it back into the coils of the gut and saw the nick in the flesh disappear. She swept the blood out of the body cavity with her mind and felt around for further damage, repairing a nick in a blood vessel, and a gash to his kidney. Abdominal wounds were terrible for hiding mortal damage, and Eira found herself double-checking all the repairs she made, and looking for more. She was finally satisfied that there were no hidden tears that would manifest later, and drew back her healing power, closing the tear in the muscle wall, and repairing the skin. She withdrew her hands, and brushed away the yarrow to examine her repair. An angry red line remained. She sighed and placed her hands across the scar and tried to will it away. When she withdrew her hands again, it was still there. A drop of blood spattered onto Thor’s bare abdomen and she wiped absently at her nose.

“You have overtaxed yourself, Eira.” Thor’s deep voice was a gentle murmur. She shook her head.

“I can’t have. There are still too many injured to tend.” Eira shook her head and closed her eyes, dizzy.

“Your nose bleeds. You must rest.” Thor demanded.

“I have much work still to do. Come, I will assist you to retreat. Revive yourself with a cup of strong mead.” Eira refused his orders, and pushed herself to her feet, brushing the grime and pebbles from her bare knees. Thor sat up, and stared at her knees.

“You are in armour.” He stated. Confusion etched his brow. 

“This is a war field.” Eira agreed.

“Have I never noticed you healing before?” Thor was dangerously close to discovering her secret. It wouldn’t take much for him to realize that under the filth, her armour shone a bright gold. Or to really open his eyes and see what had transpired. 

“I have others to heal, love. I will see you back in Asgard soon.” She cupped his face in her hands and kissed both his cheeks before grabbing her saddlebags and heading back to Fleygur. Brynhildr sat astride her horse, awaiting her. The battle horns sounded retreat as Eira strapped the saddlebag back onto her horse.

“You cannot cease your duties just because your lover is wounded, Eira.” Brynhildr scolded

“I wounded him.” Eira stated, her tone suggesting she wasn’t going to accept the reprimand.

“What were you thinking?” Brynhildr screeched in shock.

“That he was trying to kill me because he thought I was trying to kill someone. And I knew there was no way that he would come out of the battle satisfied. I had to wound him to break his rage. And then I had to heal him else the wound be fatal.”

“Eira,” Brynhildr breathed in horror, “When the Allfather finds out-“

“I’m sure he already knows. His ravens were very curious.” Eira interrupted. “Do you not see, I had no choice?”

“Why do you insist on keeping your status as one of us a secret? Are you so ashamed?” Brynhildr looked hurt.

“No. Yes. No. Not any longer.” Eira floundered. “We are not to be numbered among the songs of men, Brynhildr. You know that as well as I. If someone should discover what I am, I cannot prevent that. But I am not going to go forward, particularly not to the man I love, and admit what I am. Admit that by rights, I should never be with him because his own father called me to this life. Not now that he would wed me.”

“Wed you?” Brynhildr was shocked.

“He suggested that it would be pursued when he returned home.” Eira admitted.

“Think you the Allfather will release you?” Brynhildr’s brow furrowed.

“I know not. He told me he’d called me to the Valkyrie to alter my destiny. I do not know what is written for myself. Or for Thor. I just know he has won my heart.” Eira shrugged. Brynhildr sat back in her saddle and squared her shoulders.

“I am selfish and would have you with me as my sister for longer. But if you are released for love, who am I to argue with the Allfather?” She mused. “Come, there are more to carry to Valhalla. And you have many hours of healing as well, goddess.” Brynhildr winked and urged her horse forward to the war field to collect the dead.

XXX

There was something that had become familiar and reassuring about service in Valhalla. Over the past months that Eira had been willingly fulfilling her duties, she had grown to enjoy the sameness of each night. The only change was who sat at the head table of the glorious dead. Tonight it was Asgardians and Light Elves, at peace with one another in death. They ate, and laughed and enjoyed good mead together. If only life could be so simple, she thought.

On her way to refill her mead pitcher, she stopped to hug her father and Jarni. Jarni assessed her shrewdly as he held her at arms length.

“There is something different about you, Eira.” He accused. He reached toward her neck and fingered the leather string, pulling the silver replica of Mjolnir from under her tunic. He smirked and raised an eyebrow.

“The cult of Thor, sister? Truly?” He laughed. Eira flushed and grabbed the pendant, dropping it back under her tunic where others would not see it.

“Never you mind, Jarni.” She snapped, but did not stay angry. 

“Why do you wear it?” He pushed. 

“Because His Highness asked me to.” She replied, hoping to shut him up.

“Since when have you been so close that Thor gives you gifts?” Jarni was suspicious. Their father watched the exchange with amused indifference. He probably had never expected to watch his children bicker again, but he wasn’t about to wade into the fray. He was content to sit back and watch without knowing what had set them to squabbling.

“He courts me, Jarni.” Eira spoke quietly, hoping none would overhear. Jarni leaned close, surprise washing across his handsome features.

“You are a Valkyrie, Eira, you may not marry.” He whispered, his words a sharp staccato.

“He hopes to change the Allfather’s mind.” She responded with softness. “I must return mead to the head table, Jarni. We can speak of this more later.”

“Yes, we will. And I’m sure Father will have plenty to add when I fill him in.” Jarni glanced back at their father, who was taking a long draught from his mead cup, his eyes betraying his amusement at the hushed conversation between siblings. Eira hugged them both and departed.


	13. Chapter 13

Eira stirred the pot on the fire, adding a small handful of spices before stirring it again. She withdrew the pot and poured the contents into two small cups before turning to sit with Halla. She bent over the cup to inhale the sweet aroma, taking a few calming breaths before looking back to her mother.

“Thor has made his suit clear, mother. He claims he will seek to gain permission to marry me from the Allfather.” Eira’s words were quiet, as if that would diminish the shock of them. Halla nodded and took a sip from her cup.

“That explains the extravagance of mulled mead.” Halla was always so practical; she knew the special drink was a bargain of sorts.

“He does not know, Mother.” Eira stated.

“I suspected not. How can he not have seen you? How can he not have noticed your armour?” Halla questioned. Eira was also puzzled as to his inability to see her for what she truly was.

“At first, I thought the mire and gore of battle must have obscured my features. But Loki and Fandral both have seen me, and know what I am. I admit, I have been more careful that Thor not see me, but I do not understand. I ran him through, Mother. I lanced him with my spear, and still he chose not to see that it was me that wounded him.” Eira was confused.

“Do you think he loves you?” Halla asked.

“I think he believes he does.” Eira admitted, careful to make clear the difference.

“Ah, sometimes lust can be more blind than even love. Together they are a powerful combination. But I think the greater of his feelings is lust, Eira. And lust is a persuasive elixir in the right dose. He chooses not to see, but I think that when he does discover who and what you are, he will feel the fool for not catching it sooner. Right now he sees only what he wants to see, a pretty girl, unsullied by life at court.” Halla traced the rim of her cup as she spoke.

“Do I tell him?” Eira asked. Halla dropped a hand across Eira’s own and squeezed gently.

“No. Eira, you are bound as a Valkyrie not to reveal your calling. Not even for the Allfather’s heir.”

XXX

Eira galloped across the field behind her home, pushing Fleygur to his limit. The horse panted below her, but showed no sign of succumbing to the hard work. She urged him faster, weaving him around trees and boulders, testing his maneuverability as well as his speed. He was a graceful, agile horse. She saw another horse cresting the hill and reined him in to a slow canter. 

Fandral approached at a quick pace.

“Eira, you are hard to track down this day.” He greeted with a smile. Eira grinned, not the least bit guilty.

“I am a busy woman, Fandral. What have you need of? Do you still suffer from your injury?” She queried. He shook his head and laughed.

“No, I am recovered well. A remarkable healer seems to have seen fit to save me for another war.” He teased. “I am to escort you to the Allfather.”

Eira felt a chill run up her back and nodded. Fandral’s demeanor didn’t change with the news, he was still good-humoured. So either it was not a meeting to be feared, or Fandral had no knowledge of why she was being called to the king.

“I will need to freshen myself.” Eira excused herself, directing Fleygur down the hill to the house.

“The Allfather has demanded your immediate presence, Eira. There is not time to make yourself pretty.” Fandral insisted. “Not that you need help in that regard.”

Eira flushed at his flirtation, despite knowing it was just a flirtation and nothing serious. She redirected Fleygur to follow Fandral and they headed to the palace. Fandral took the reins to her horse when they arrived, and allowed a palace guard to escort her to the throne room. She drew in a fortifying breath at the door and made her way toward the throne and Odin, dropping in a deep curtsey as she neared the dais. She waited, dipped in courtesy, for Odin’s leave to come closer.

“Leave us. I have words for Lady Eira.” Odin’s voice boomed through the room, and the guards retreated. “Come close, child.”

Eira stepped up to the throne and bowed her head, waiting further instruction.

“Enough, Eira. You have my leave to make yourself comfortable.” He sat on his throne, arms spread on the arm rests. His good eye was sharp. Eira sat on a stool near the throne, and placed her hands in her lap.

“You ordered my presence, Allfather.” Eira glanced up at him, and saw his ravens on either shoulder. She gnawed her lip nervously, waiting for him to say something.

“You ran my son through.”

“I protected myself and him.” Eira admitted.

“How did you protect him?” Odin demanded.

“He saw me as I healed a man, but did not see a healer. There had been a unit of shieldmaidens, and he mistook me. He attacked, thinking I was one of them. You and I both know that is not a battle he could have won. I chose to wound him to escape. I returned to heal him immediately.” She explained.

“Yes, that is the story my ravens have told me.” Odin nodded.

“Then why am I here?”

“Thor seeks your hand. He came to me for permission, as you and your mother are under my protection.” Odin explained.

“And?” Eira waited.

“You know I will not release you from your calling, Eira. I am not convinced you would be a good match. You have too many secrets and he has little to recommend him.” Odin pursed his lips until they blanched.

“He is your son! And you think he has little to recommend him?” Eira was astonished.

“He will, one day, rule Asgard. Until then, he seeks amusement in war and women’s beds. I would have thought better of you.” Odin’s words were a chastisement.

“I remain a maid, Allfather.” Eira’s words were cold.

“Be sure you remain that way. I am content to allow Thor to continue to court you. I would like evidence to support his claims of love. It is easy to see you are taken with him, but my son loves quickly, and loses interest just as soon. I called you as a Valkyrie with a purpose. I would not see your release without good reason.” Odin pronounced. Eira nodded.

“Of course, Allfather.” Eira’s jaw was tight from biting back her anger, but she knew to argue with Odin would cost her more than just Thor.

“With that settled, tell me of your studies with my other son.” His demeanor changed immediately from cantankerous ruler to concerned father.

“Loki is a wealth of knowledge. We’ve only worked together once since we healed Fandral. It was very,” Eira paused, looking for the right word, “revealing.”

“I would see you work with him more. My ravens say your magic can be unpredictable, and that you easily become overtaxed.”

“He need but appear, and I will learn from him.” Eira smiled, careful to reveal nothing.

“I will see it done.” Odin resolved. “You are dismissed, Lady Eira.” 

Eira rose from the stool and bowed deeply, unsure whether to be furious or pleased at the involved interest Odin was taking in her life. When she reached the throne room doors, a palace guard stopped her.

“Your presence is required at the training grounds, Lady Eira.”

“Is someone wounded?” She asked, eyes widening. She had brought nothing with her. He wordlessly led her to the dirt courtyard where the soldiers held practice. Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, and Sif were practicing against straw dummies, but there was no one else around. Eira turned to the guard, confused.

“Eira!” Thor appeared before she could question the guard, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her affectionately. Eira let out a stunned laugh as he pulled her off her feet and spun her around.

“It is lovely to see you as well.” She gasped. His arms crushed her to him before he set her feet back on the ground.

“Since you insist on being on war fields healing the wounded, I thought we could teach you to hold a sword and defend yourself.” He announced. A puzzled look flashed across Eira’s face, and when she caught Fandral winking at her, she had to bite her lip to stay serious.

“Has this anything to do with the conversation I just had with the Allfather?” Eira was blunt. Thor winked and smiled.

“If he wants proof, what better way to offer it than to ensure you are safe in your pursuits?” He asked, with feigned innocence. Sif rolled her eyes and brought a practice sword to her.

“I will be doing most of the teaching. Women hold weapons differently than men. Our bodies bend in different ways.” Sif obviously did not want to be helping her, but must have been roped in by Thor’s enthusiasm. “You will fight against the men. They will only defend until you have learned to throw a blow.”

Eira took the sword and swung it to test its weight. Sif raised an eyebrow at the move, and Eira quickly allowed the sword to drop from her hand to the ground with a clatter.

“Tis heavy.” She smiled, picking the practice weapon back up. Sif sighed and shook her head, obviously thinking Eira was to be hopeless. Eira was content to put on an act for the moment. Sif stood behind Eira, placing her hands on Eira’s hips, and pulled her down into a squatting pose.

“You need your knees bent, as it will allow you to throw the sword with power. A woman’s strength is in her hips –“

“I’ll say.” Fandral interrupted with a laugh. Sif shot him a dirty look before resuming her lecture.

“And throwing a sword blow using your hips to power through the shot will give you the force and impact to damage your opponent. This is the most basic of sword blows.” Sif took her practice sword and swung her arm from the elbow, out in a semi circle, snapping the end of the sword as her arm reached full extension. Eira watched Sif’s hips as they swiveled through the shot. Despite Fandral’s amusement at Sif teaching the Valkyrie how to use a sword, Eira was actually paying attention and enjoying the lesson. She’d avoided most of the training given to Valkyries, and though she was effective with a spear when needed, swordplay was not a strength of hers. It wouldn’t hurt to learn, particularly not from so skilled a warrior as Sif. 

Sif continued to explain a variety of different ways to throw a sword blow, and if it hadn’t been for Eira’s familiarity with the weapon, she would have been quickly overwhelmed by the lesson. As it was, she was drowning in information that she should have learned years prior. When Sif saw how intently Eira was watching and listening, she relaxed a little and wasn’t as waspish in her tone.

“Are you ready to try a forward assault?” Sif asked. Eira nodded.

“I believe so.” She agreed. Volstagg stepped forward first.

“When you fight a man so much larger, it is imperative that you strike first and strike hard. Make each blow count. Strike in combinations, he won’t be as fast as you are. But don’t assume a great man is slow. And he does have the advantage with size.”

“You said they wouldn’t be fighting back until I was competent.” Eira gave Sif a concerned look. Sif smirked.

“They won’t, but it doesn’t hurt for you to know these things now. Now, all of the men are taller than you, so you will be within their easy reach. You must work your disadvantage against them. Draw in as close as you can to strike, and it will be more difficult for them to return blows. You are quite tall, so you won’t be able to get too close, but work with what you have.” Sif sized her up, as though realizing for the first time that Eira was taller than her.

“Sif, I grow eager to be beaten by the lady. Can we begin?” Volstagg teased. Sif bowed with exaggerated depth and backed away.

“Remember Volstagg, you are not to hit back.” Sif warned him. Volstagg glared over at her, dropping his guard momentarily, and Eira chose to strike in that moment, driving him back against a barricade. Volstagg’s eyes widened in surprise and Sif laughed.

“Am I to fight back now, Sif?” Volstagg called. Sif clapped Eira on the back.

“Well done, fledgling. You listen well. You have no previous training?” Sif asked. Fandral smothered a laugh behind a coughing fit.

“My brother, Jarni. Before he died. He made sure I knew how to defend, if necessary. The basics only. Mother and I were alone at her holdings often.” Eira stammered, fabricating the lie as she went. Fandral started coughing again and Eira shot him a dirty look.

“He was obviously a good teacher. Hogun, your turn.” Sif gestured to her friend, who stepped forward, a grim look on his face. “Hogun is a master of the mace. It is a difficult weapon to defend against, but by its nature can leave the wielder open to attack. You want to aim for his under arms and chest.” 

Hogun lifted the mace to demonstrate, careful not to be distracted as Volstagg was. Eira narrowed her eyes and looked for the opening in his defensive stance before driving forward, throwing a combination of blows. Unlike Volstagg, Hogun stood his ground, defending against her attack with ease. Eira was unable to successfully land a single blow on him, and when she was panting with exertion, he had barely broken a sweat. Sif stood beside Thor, heads close in conference. She nodded at something he said and turned back to Eira.

“You are announcing your sword strikes before you move your weapon, Eira. A good opponent will always watch for that, and use it to his advantage.”

“I thought I was learning defensive fighting.” Eira complained, leaning on her practice sword, sweaty with the labour of practicing. Her hangarok weighed heavily on her, the brooches and festoon dragging on her neck. As she wouldn’t be wearing the adornments in battle, she stepped to the edge of the practice ring and unclasped her brooches, pulling the hangarok over her head. She folded it with the brooches and beads wrapped in the middle of it, and left it in the dust at the edge of the enclosure. She picked her practice sword back up, and smoothed down her light undertunic. Fandral let out a low whistle and stepped forward.

“I hardly think this is fair, Eira.” He teased. “Should I remove some of my clothes as well? Are we to wrestle?” Thor stepped up beside his friend and elbowed him.

“Be mindful to whom you speak, friend.” He warned. Fandral laughed.

“Thor, Eira knows I merely tease. But I should be allowed, after all. She saved my life, and as my salvation, has earned my undying love.” He winked at Eira, and leaned close to his friend. “Should she ever tire of you, brother, I will be glad to woo her, instead of naught but teasing her.” 

“You would gladly woo a crone, fool.” Thor retorted. He rolled his eyes and shoved Fandral again before stepping back to the edge of the practice area.

“Fandral is the quickest of us, Eira, possibly the most talented with a sword of us all. If you can unarm him, you can unarm anyone you will meet in battle.” Sif redirected the conversation. Eira laughed.

“I suspect that I could win against Fandral if I played dirty. But that wouldn’t work on many others.” She teased Fandral, who grinned in response.

“You might be surprised. Fandral is all focus and concentration when it comes to battle.” Sif laughed. “Thor will defend after Fandral, then I will.”

She nodded at Fandral, who assumed a defensive pose. Eira repressed the urge to tease him, and instead drove forward in a nearly blind attack. He defended against her with ease, not even breaking a sweat. As she overextended herself for an overhead blow, he brought up his sword to block, tripping them both. They collapsed in a heap, Eira falling on top of him, her sword slipping from her grip. Fandral crowed in triumph, and flipped Eira onto her back, holding his practice sword across her throat. He winked and stole a chaste kiss, bringing Thor roaring back onto the field.

“Relax, you oaf. If she did not gain an interest in me while she mended my wounds, she won’t stray from you now.” Fandral laughed as Thor pulled him off of Eira, and tossed him toward the other warriors. He assisted Eira to her feet, and pulled her into a warm, passionate kiss that left her dizzy for more.

“Do you kiss all your enemies into submission, Thor? I might like to be your adversary if that is so.” Eira breathed as she broke from his lips. The furrowed lines in Thor’s brow relaxed, and he blushed, then smiled.

“It appears covet all of your kisses. Even those given in jest.” Thor murmured.

“Fandral is not your competition. He is a rake and my friend only.” She pushed his hair away from his face and kissed him on the cheek. Thor smiled and took her lips in another kiss, burying his hands in her hair.

“I would think we are done for now, boys.” Eira heard Sif comment, and the Warriors Three and Sif departed, with no small amount of noise.


	14. Chapter 14

Eira sat in the tall grass, legs crossed in front of her, leaning back against a tree. Thor’s head was in her lap, and she was running her fingers through his hair while he fed her grapes. It was idyllic and perfect and the only thing ruining her perfect enjoyment of the day was the knowledge that Odin disapproved of the two of them together. She tried not to think about her ill-fated romance, and instead focused merely on the romantic part of it. She was spending the day with the man with whom she thought she might be falling in love.

She smiled and leaned down, meeting his lips with her own. 

“We could go to another realm, Eira. And be wed there. Stay there. Somewhere my father couldn’t prevent us from being together.” Thor’s voice was a deep rumble in his chest.

“Is there a realm where the Allfather does not have influence?” Eira laughed. “We can stay here. Prove that we have good reason to be together. I do not mind the wait. We are not in our dotage. We have centuries ahead of us.”

Thor sat up and faced her, cupping her cheek in his hand. He leaned across her, balancing with his hand on her opposite hip. His touch gave her shivers.

“You are like no woman I have ever met, Eira Sigbjornsdottir. Any other woman of court would be pushing for a quick wedding, happy to defy my father for a chance to reign by my side. And you are content to wait.” He kissed her, gently. His hand traveled down her hip, over the coarse linen of her hangarok, his body covering hers.

“Some things are worth the wait, Thor.” Eira responded, her voice soft. She ran a hand down his bare arm.

“And yet, I find myself impatient.” Thor pushed the strap of her hangarok to one side, and slipped the edge of her tunic away from her shoulder. He trailed his lips down her neck to the hollow of her throat. Eira tangled her fingers in his hair, and pulled his face back to hers.

“A prince deserves a maiden on his wedding day.” Eira teased him, her voice barely a whisper. He kissed her again, but it was a kiss of resignation.

“If I was the one to remove her maidenhood, she would still have been a maid.” He argued, but he knew it was no use. Eira laughed.

“That will hardly convince your father of my worth. Or yours.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, and wiggled out from between his arms. She stood and dusted off the back of her dress. 

“There is a beautiful lake not far from here. Do you swim?” She offered him a hand. He smirked and took it, pulling her back down on top of him. He quickly rolled on top of her and pressed his mouth to hers. His thighs pressed painfully against hers and without thinking, she spread her legs, allowing his hips to press completely against hers. Her breath caught in her throat and she pushed against his chest.

“Eira –“ Thor moaned in frustration, but rolled off her.

“The lake is cold. Shall we swim?” Eira smiled and pushed herself to her feet. Thor nodded and followed her down the trail to the water. As soon as she caught sight of the water, Eira started to unclasp her brooches and pull off her hangarok, running toward the water. She hopped on one foot, then another, pulling her boots off, and dropped everything on the sandy beach.

“Race you in!” She called, deviously. Thor started to run and strip, trying to catch up. He scooped her up when he caught up with her and carried her into the water, dropping her in when he was waist deep. Eira shrieked and sputtered as she came back to the surface. She laughed and splashed him in feigned anger. His laugh was booming as he sought to retaliate, and then he stopped, his pupils dilating. He clenched his hands at his sides and looked away from her.

“Eira, if you seek to remain a maid until our wedding, you need to leave the water, and dry yourself. I cannot look at you with your tunic so-“ He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at her. Eira looked down and gasped, realizing what he was able to see through the thin linen of her light undertunic. She pulled the fabric away from her skin, and made her way to the shore, quickly pulling her hangarok back over the soaking garment.

“Mayhap you need to take me home now, Thor.” Eira fought to control the flushing in her cheeks. He nodded and waded back to shore. He picked his tunic off the ground and handed it to her.

“This will help to keep you warmer.” He offered. She pulled it over her head and laced her fingers in his.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, feeling foolish. Thor dipped his head and kissed her forehead.

“Tis not your fault.”

XXX

The palace guard escorted her down a long corridor for what felt like ages. Finally he turned left and opened a door, leading her into a library. The walls seemed to reach the heavens, meeting finally at a domed roof that was painted with the night sky. Eira stared up at what must have been thousands of books, and manuscripts. It left her breathless. She walked over to the nearest wall, and ran her fingers along the spines of the books, savouring the feel of the different binding materials against her fingers, from smooth, to rough, to smooth. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of parchment, vellum, ink and dust.

“If I am to be your teacher, you will be meeting me here for lessons.” Loki sounded angry. Eira immediately felt defensive and dropped her hand from the bookshelf as though she was trying to make herself smaller.

“This library is amazing.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t raise his ire.

“I did not appreciate being ordered to give you lessons, Lady Eira.” Loki’s shoulders were tight and his jaw was squared, as though he was having a hard time controlling his rage.

“We are back to formalities then, Your Highness.” Eira sighed.

“I think that is better, considering.” Loki shrugged.

“Considering? And if I am to be your sister, should we not be less formal?” Eira snapped.

“The Allfather will never grant Thor’s suit. His desire for you will fade with each obstacle Father puts up, and you will fade back into the country, forgotten. It is better that we behave as strangers again. It will be easier for you.” Loki explained. Eira felt as though she had been slapped, and her immediate response was to lash back. His face snapped to one side as her hand connected with his cheek.

“You don’t get to speak to me like I am offal, Your Highness. Your pride is hurt, your ego bruised. You’ve been ordered to obey your father, to the benefit of all the realms. Stop behaving like a petulant child.” Eira threatened.

“You made me want you!” Loki raged. Eira threw her arms up in surrender.

“Do you think I did that to you on purpose? Loki, you are my friend. You are my secret keeper. I would never knowingly do something to endanger that!” She protested. “Do you not think I was as horrified as you by what I had done? I have never been more regretful.”

Loki softened momentarily, before turning away. He stalked across the room to the window.

“You have much to learn, Eira. Your magic is raw. You exhaust yourself every time you are on the battlefield. That will take its toll, take years from your life. So the first thing I am going to teach you is control. Have you been able to make the sphere without thinking about bedding my brother?” He pulled a book from the shelf and opened it on a table nearby.

Eira flushed, unsure if she should correct him or just answer. She opted just to answer.

“Yes. When I was in Alfheim.”

“Good. We’ll spend the morning working on making your sphere larger, and more reliable. Stable magic is the foundation for strength.” He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit. She complied, and he sat across from her. He reached out and took her hands in his, holding them cupped.

“Bring forth the sphere, Eira.” Loki requested. Eira willed it into place.

“It has been stronger since Alfheim.” She offered.

“Good. You can store your energy in a sphere like this, and will it into and out of being whenever you need it. The more energy you store, the less you will draw on your own reserves. This is particularly important in the heat of battle. You should spend some time working on building this magic daily. It will not deplete once the energy is in there.” Loki explained.

“Once the magic is in the sphere it stays there?” Eira was confused. “What happens when I use it?”

“Imagine a sheep bladder. When it is empty, it is small, but once you start filling it, and stretching it, it holds more volume. If you fill it slowly, it will stretch and give and allow more and more in. So your sphere will stretch and hold infinite amounts of magic. In the process, it builds more magic. That’s how magic works. Magically.” Loki sounded frustrated.

“But you’re saying that by storing some of my energy, I make the energy in the sphere unlimited.” Eira’s brow furrowed, lost.

“Somewhat. It will only provide the amount of energy you have stored, and then it will stop working, depleted. But after a time, it will have refreshed, and can be used again. Sometimes it takes a day, sometimes many days. So you see why it is important to store much energy in it?” Loki clarified, twirling the fingers on his right hand and bringing his own sphere into view. Eira let her sphere flicker away and reached out her fingers to touch Loki’s.

“If I store energy in it, I won’t use all my magic on one or two injured, but can heal more.” Eira asked.

“Faster too. I’m sure you noticed that on Alfheim.” He nodded. With a flick of his wrist, his orb flashed away. “But you need to store a part of your magic energy in it every day in order to make it strong.”

“How do I do that?” Eira asked.

“Work on bringing it up using a variety of tactics. Use your thoughts, use your feelings. Hold it for as long as you can. And then rest. Do it again. Until your magic is spent for the day. You might want to wait until evening to do this. I find I sleep well when I’ve spent my magic. And you’ll want your magic for healing. And you so rarely know when.” He offered.

Eira nodded again, and blinked her sphere present again. Loki smiled.

“Let’s see how long it takes to refresh. Push it into me.” He ordered.

“Last time I did that, you stopped speaking to me.” Eira was cautious. Loki smirked.

“This time I am expecting it.” He shrugged, jaw set. Eira flinched and did as he asked, pushing the sphere into his chest at the opening of his tunic. It dissipated, absorbing into his skin, and left a small red mark. He took a deep breath and then licked his lips. He rubbed the spot on his chest and took another breath, then sighed.

“I haven’t hurt you?” Eira was worried.

“Honey.” He smiled and looked out the window. Eira suspected their lesson was over for at least a few hours while they waited for her sphere to replenish, and stood to look at the books along the wall.


	15. Chapter 15

The Midgardians seemed determined to eliminate one another from the face of their realm, Eira thought. She said as much to Brynhildr, who laughed at the comment.

“Sister, these men will battle until Ragnarok, but their women will continue to provide them sons to lead to the slaughter. Humanity is primitive yet. Give them time.” She clapped Eira on the back. “Truly, you should not complain, as you get so much practice healing.” She winked, and returned to observing the battlefield.

“For them to head into war again. Am I not just delaying the inevitable?” Eira sighed. Her lessons with Loki were exhausting, and Thor was taking up much of the time that was left. She didn’t begrudge him the attention, but she was tired, and when she was tired, she resented leading the dead to Valhalla more. She felt like she failed each man that she carried to the meadhall. 

“I don’t envy you your place, Eira. To heal and then watch them march back into war. I would be sickened with grief. You were given the strength to bear this load, or you wouldn’t be able.” Bryn patted her on the shoulder. Eira didn’t really feel it through her armour.

“Is it always miserable here?” Eira wiped rain from her face, and pulled her cloak closer around her. Brynhildr laughed.

“You know it is not. Midgard is beautiful because of the many types of weather. These Northmen though, they seem to like the cold. And the wet. And the mud.” Brynhildr responded without looking away from the field.

“Tis good for the skin, sisters!” Hrist joked from beside Brynhildr. Eira smiled despite her dark mood. 

“Freya has cleared away. We should collect our men.” Kara noted.

“Be mindful that they still battle. You may not die from a sword blow, but you will most certainly feel it.” Brynhildr said the same thing every time they rode in to collect the dead. She raised her spear and led the Valkyries in a charge down the hill. Eira had never heard of a Valkyrie being injured in the performance of her duty, but she always took extra precautions simply because she lingered on the field longer than any of the other women did, healing. 

It felt like hours, and Eira was chilled to the bone, but the battle seemed to be coming to its end. Brynhildr had determined that a final pass across the warfield would likely collect the remaining souls awaiting escort to Valhalla. Eira dismounted from Fleygur, and knelt by a moaning man. She held a flagon of mead to his lips, and let her mind slip into his body to assess his wounds. She knew the damage to his arm was severe enough that he would lose it, but the wound was not deadly. She turned to her saddlebags to retrieve supplies and heard a war cry from behind her. Before she could grab her spear and turn, she felt a sharp pain to her gut. Her hands flew to her belly, and she looked down, grasping a sword tip where it protruded. She fell to the ground in agony, still clutching the wound, even as the sword was withdrawn.

She must have screamed because as the soldier moved in for what he thought would be a killing blow, his mouth overflowed with blood and he fell backward. Eira fought to control her breathing, reaching her magic into her wound, but she was weak and couldn’t find the damage. She felt her head lifted into someone’s lap, and opened her eyes, meeting Bryn’s concerned gaze.

“I say it, every time, for you, Eira. Every time. Be mindful that they still battle, you little fool.” Brynhildr busied herself pulling Eira’s helm off and smoothing her sweat-matted hair off her brow. Eira saw her dash away a tear in her flurry of activity.

“I feel like I am dying.” She moaned.

“What’s worse is you cannot. So you will feel this way until we get you home to your mother. Tell me what to do to staunch the bleeding so you do not lose so much blood.” Bryn was pale with worry. Eira struggled to breathe and weakly pointed at the man lying beside her.

“This man is going to lose his arm. You need to numb his pain and tourniquet his arm before you worry about me. I will live forever. He will not.” Eira argued. “There is a poppy and willow decoction in my bags. Give him a swallow of it. Then take the leather strap in the bag and tighten it around his arm.”

“Eira, hang him. We’ll take him to Valhalla instead. We need to heal you!” Bryn argued. Eira shook her head and drew in a deep breath.

“If you will not treat him, I will.” She pushed herself up from Brynhildr’s lap. Bryn pulled her back, forcefully.

“Fine, I will treat him. But I am no healer.” Bryn dragged her cloak from her shoulders and laid it under Eira’s head like a pillow. She hurriedly rummaged through the saddlebags and pulled out what she needed, and knelt at the man’s side. With no gentle hand, she tipped his head and offered him a dram of the pain elixir before roughly trussing his arm up. His head dropped back into the mud and he mumbled his thanks before succumbing to the pull of Nótt. Bryn turned back to Eira and offered her the medication as well.

“No, I need to be awake.”

“You do not, Eira. I must carry you back to Asgard, and it will not be an enjoyable journey with this injury. Let me give you some comfort before we go. Your mother will be able to heal you as soon as we get there, but you need comfort in the meantime.” Bryn argued.

“My mother will not be able to heal an injury such as this. Mother can heal illness. Not war wounds. You will need Frigga, or Loki.” Eira redoubled in pain, and gasped. “Perhaps some assistance from Nótt would be acceptable.” She took the proffered bottle from Brynhildr and took a long drink, settling into a restless, but pain free sleep.

XXX

Eira ached all over. Her eyelids felt heavy and each breath felt as though she was trying to dislodge a great weight from her chest. She felt a warm hand in her own, and squeezed it. The long fingers curled around hers, the unmistakable scent of a man reaching her nose.

“Thor?” She mumbled, struggling to waken. She turned her head toward the person holding her hand, and managed to open one eye, but the work of it was too much, and she drifted back to sleep, engulfed in the sweetly spicy scent he carried.

“Sleep, my love.” His voice was soft, and he rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand.

The next time she wakened, it was dark and she was alone. She pushed herself up gingerly, and pulled up her shift to assess her wound. She was sore, but didn’t feel the pull of stitches. She unwound the bandage that was wrapped around her midsection, and ran a hand down her belly. Nothing. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she confirmed the lack of wound. There was a small lumpy scar where the sword thrust through her, but nothing else. Whoever it was had healed her well. She reached stiffly to her back, but could not manage to reach where the entry wound had been.

“You are awake.” Halla came in, carrying a candle and a bowl of broth. “You took years from my life, Eira Sigbjornsdottir.”

“I feel as though I’ve been trampled by a horse.” Eira admitted. Halla helped prop her up at the head of the bed, placing a pillow at the base of her back for comfort. She offered her the bowl of soup.

“Tis just broth. Brynhildr said she’s never seen a Valkyrie wounded before. At least we know now that you girls truly are immortal. That wound was seeping bile by the time you got here. You should be dead.” Halla spoke deliberately. Even in the low light, Eira could see that her mother was exhausted.

“I am sorry, Mother.” She murmured.

“I know, child.” Halla rose. “Rest. I will send a message to the palace that you have wakened.” 

Eira finished her broth and lay back down to a dreamless sleep.

XXX

When she awoke in the morning, Eira was still stiff and sore all over, but in her opinion was immeasurably better than she had been. She slowly sat up and swung her legs over the edge of her bed. She placed her feet on the floor and carefully stood. She placed her hand on the wall to steady herself, dizziness washing over her in waves. When the spinning in her head settled, she slowly walked to the courtyard, and sat herself down in the sun, soaking up each ray that hit her.

She was leaning back against the fountain when Loki found her. He sat down beside her without pretense.

“You look terrible.” He was honest.

“I feel terrible.” Eira smiled. “You healed me?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “You lost a great deal of blood. I was unsure how to create more.”

“You cannot. It must come back of its own accord. The scar is unsightly, Loki, you must have more care next time.” She teased.

“I was more concerned in putting your insides back together.” He snapped, not catching the lightness of her tone.

“You couldn’t do both?” She winked. He shot her a glare, but on seeing the cocked eyebrow and teasing smirk on Eira’s face, he sighed and leaned back against the fountain, looking at the sky.

“I am not the goddess of healing.” He teased in return. She laughed, and then stopped, finding the motion hurt her belly. They sat quietly together for a while.

“Why did Thor not stay, yesterday?” She asked, suddenly. Loki looked confused.

“Thor was not here. Father thought it best he not know of your injury, lest he try to forbid you from fulfilling your duties, both as a healer and Valkyrie.”

“So the Allfather still disapproves of our courtship.” Eira sighed.

“The Allfather’s reasons seldom make sense to those of us not privy to his motivation, Eira. You have seen how Thor is, particularly with you. He is protective to an extreme. It is better he not know you were harmed on a warfield. Surely you must understand.” Loki explained. Eira nodded.

“I can accept this without enjoying it, Loki.” She muttered. “Thank you. For healing me.”

“You need not thank me for that. I am relieved to see you up so soon.” He brushed aside her thanks and kissed her forehead. “I must be back to the palace. I will return tomorrow. We will see if your magic has recovered. If it has, we can remove your scars.” He rose from the grass and departed. It was only after he had gone that she realized she still only wore her shift.

XXX

“Are you sure it is Thor you wish to marry, Eira?” Brynhildr asked suddenly, from where she stood in the lake. She’d come to check on Eira and found her friend struggling to wash herself with a cold, damp rag. Bryn had insisted on assisting her to the lake for a proper bath. She’d already helped Eira clean her hair, and was swirling her arms in the tepid lake water while Eira scrubbed away the grime of battle and her wounds with sand and soapwort. The scum layer floating on the surface of the water near Eira was enough to turn her friend’s stomach, which explained the swirling arms. It was to keep the filth at bay.

“I love him, Bryn. Why would I not want to marry him?” Eira shot her friend a puzzled look.

“You do not think Loki is perhaps more suitable a match?” Bryn asked, innocently. Eira recoiled a little in surprise.

“Why would I? Loki has never shown an interest in me. I mean, there was one time, but it was my magic, I accidently used my romantic feelings for Thor to heal him, and it made him feel as though he desired me. But he truly does not.” Eira explained, scrubbing away at her thighs. She caught sight of the expanding dross on the water and wrinkled her nose. “I pollute this beautiful lake.” She tried to move away from the froth, but some of it trailed behind her. Bryn laughed at the scene before responding.

“When he came to heal you, Eira, he was frantic. Just because he does not whisper honeyed words in your ear does not mean he has no feelings for you. It took the hand of the Allfather to calm him enough to be able to heal you.” Bryn related carefully. “Pass me your shift so I can clean it. There’s no point in cleaning yourself if you plan to climb back into that grimy thing.”

“I am sure Loki just sees me as a sister.” Eira rolled her eyes, and tossed the thin linen garment towards her friend. “And a good friend. He has been helping me harness my magic for weeks. It is understandable that he would feel concern for me, as I would for him should he be harmed.”

Bryn shook her head and began to clean Eira’s shift.

“Sometimes, Eira, I think you as blind as that oaf you are in love with.”


	16. Chapter 16

Eira was in front of Odin again. It was an occurrence that was getting disturbingly common. She knelt on the floor before the dais and waited his command to rise.

“Join me and sit, Eira.” Odin waved a dismissal to his guards. Eira rose slowly, and made her way to the stool beside the throne. She set herself down gently and looked up at the Allfather.

“You are still moving slowly.” He acknowledged. She nodded. She was still sore and bruised and weak from her injury.

“Immortal clearly does not mean invulnerable, Your Majesty.” Her smile was rueful. Odin chuckled and pointed at his eye, and the golden patch covering it.

“No, unfortunately, you can still receive wounds. Huginn and Muninn have been on Midgard since you were hurt. The Northmen have redoubled their prayers to you. They are worried that because one of them harmed you, you will abandon them.” He commented.

“That is foolish! I am a healer, and of course I –“

“Eira, they do not know we are not gods. All they know is that one of them harmed one of us. They fear my wrath. They fear that the Valkyries will abandon them to Hel.” He interrupted. Eira nodded.

“You want me to be seen healing again.” 

“You are still far too weak to ride out with your shieldsisters. But your absence has been evident these last few battles while you’ve recovered. You will go this afternoon and walk the field. Sif will escort you. The Warriors Three will be nearby.” Odin decreed. Eira nodded, despite the fear that welled up in her belly.

“Will Thor or Loki come?” She asked.

“You will recall that Thor is still not aware of how you came to be injured, and merely thinks you ill.” Odin raised an eyebrow. Eira flushed in annoyance. Her scar was gone now, thanks to the assistance of Loki, but she had been weeks in recovery. Loki had told Thor she had contracted an illness to explain her weak and pale figure. Once Thor knew she was unwell, however, he had been impossible to keep from her bedside. He had been the picture of attentive devotion, careful to help whenever needed. 

“Allfather, he knows I have been unwell. Surely he could ride out with me. He need not know I was injured by a Midgardian in order to know I need escort and assistance.” Eira bit her cheek after she spoke. She didn’t like to argue with Odin, but she could not see the harm in having him along. He was most able to guard her, with Mjolnir by his side.

“Eira, I have spoken.”

“But –“ Eira dove in to argue, but was cut off by Odin striking Gungnir into the floor.

“Enough! I have been lenient about your relationship with my son, but I will not suffer discourtesy. You are too familiar, Eira. Sif and the Warriors Three will escort you. This is what I have spoken, and this is what shall come to pass.” Odin’s words were angry, and his voice echoed through the throne room. Eira looked down at her feet in shame.

“Of course, Allfather. Please. Accept my most humble apologies. I spoke out of my place.” Eira felt sick. She had not intended to be disrespectful; she hadn’t even been thinking when she’d argued.

“Your passions run strongly, child. But remember, you are not pledged or bound to Thor. You do not have my blessing. You have been called to the Valkyrie, and part of that calling is to remain unwed, remain a maiden. How think you to do both?” His voice was softer, and concerned. Eira didn’t answer. She was still so mortified by her behaviour that she didn’t realize he expected an answer until his hand lifted her chin to make her look at him. He cocked his head to one side, waiting.

“Other Valkyries have had lovers and not abandoned their callings, Allfather. I had hoped,” She paused, carefully selecting her next words, “I had hope that you would see that our love is righteous and pure, and acquiesce.” 

“Eira, your love for my son is noble, and honest. But I have yet to see the same in return.” Odin asserted. Eira drew in her breath and bit her lip. She paused and then leaned forward again.

“Do I have your leave to speak freely without intending disrespect?” She asked, not wanting another outburst that would have her condemned in his eyes. He nodded. “Allfather, he has pursued me, I never sought his love. He has courted me, in faith, and shown me such respect. He may not know why I have remained a maid, but he knows I am one, and he esteems it. He is patient. He does not push.”

“Does he truly not push, Eira?” Odin asked. Eira flushed, remembering their visit to the lake.

“Not much, my lord.” She admitted.

“And there is my reluctance. You are a Valkyrie, child. The promise of the Valkyrie is to remain unwed. But I must not hold you completely to this, as I have tried to reshape your destiny for my own purpose. And perhaps I was arrogant to assume I could. Perhaps I cannot. That uncertainty is the only reason I have not forcefully forbidden Thor from continuing to court you.” Odin looked thoughtful, and it frightened Eira. If the Allfather wasn’t certain how destiny worked, how could any of them be?

“Certainly there have been Valkyries who have married, had children?” Eira prompted.

“There have been many who have taken mortal lovers. There are some who have had children with the Midgardians. But never with her fellow Aesir. And I have never allowed a Valkyrie to wed.” Odin pronounced. Eira’s eyes filled with tears.

“But you belied the Norns by calling me.” Eira breathed.

“And that is why I have been lenient.” His words were soft, like a father’s. “You must go, Eira. Midgard must see you have not forsaken them.”

Eira rose, curtseyed and retreated, thinking it must be awful to be the Allfather, to have to manage the needs of the nine realms. She could barely manage the demands on her, let alone imagine how other realms might need her.

Sif met her outside the throne room and handed her some folded riding gear. She turned and led Eira toward the stables.

“I have heard you were run through healing on Midgard. And now we are to protect you whilst you go heal some more.” Her words were clipped. Eira flinched.

“My apologies.” Eira murmured. Sif gestured to a corner of the stable, and Eira quickly changed. Fleygur was saddled and ready by the time she got into the riding pants and tunic. She felt uncomfortable, and on display. She was used to wearing trousers when she was armoured as a Valkyrie, but uncomfortable in pants otherwise. Despite her discomfort, she hoisted herself carefully into her saddle and followed Sif to the Bifrost. 

Heimdall transported them to Midgard, delivering them to a spot a few feet from where the battle raged. The Valkyries were the next hill over, and Brynhildr urged her horse toward them when she saw Eira. She reigned herself in quickly when she recognized Sif and the Warriors Three, dropping the eager smile for one of cool regard.

“Lady Eira, healer. You have returned to Midgard after your injury.” Bryn nodded her head. Fandral winked when he caught her eye, letting both Eira and Bryn know he was in on their secret.

“It would seem the Northmen fear I’ve forsaken them. I will heal today, and then return to my rest.” Eira conceded. Bryn smiled.

“We will keep watch over you this day as well. The Northmen need their goddess, Lady Eira.” Bryn teased. Eira allowed a broad smile to her friend.

“I will come and visit soon.” Eira whispered before turning back to her guard. “Well, let us be into the fray.”

XXX

Eira ached all over. She ached all over, and was covered in gore from treating the wounded. She stunk of sweat, and bile, and blood and waste. And she ached so much she thought she might need help bathing. Instead, she had Sif and the Warriors Three.

“You look like death riding, Eira.” Sif commented.

“I hurt everywhere.” She admitted.

“You need to bathe.” Fandral pointed out.

“I am aware of that.” She slid down the side of Fleygur and tied him to a tree branch near the water. She slumped in a cross-legged heap beside her horse, exhausted. Fandral swung a leg over the back of his horse and dropped gracefully to the ground. He knelt beside Eira and inspected her.

“I would offer my aid –“

“Oh, for the sake of the Norns. Boys, go. I will help her to bathe.” Sif rolled her eyes and leapt down from her horse. “This was too soon. The Allfather should have known.”

“You saw the relief in the eyes of those men and their healers when I walked on to that field. They truly would have believed themselves forsaken, and the man who injured me, his life would have been void. I should have returned sooner.” Eira snapped, swatting Sif’s hands away. “I am fine. Go, recount the trial of guarding me over mead with your friends. You’ve always made your enmity toward me crystal clear, Sif.”

Sif recoiled like she had been slapped. She stood and stormed back to her horse, pulling herself into the saddle. She rode a few feet away, and then rode back.

“I never knew what Thor saw in you until today, Eira. Your gentle grace with those men who so often are no more than animals. Your kind hand as you healed. Your sweet whispered words of comfort. I understand now. I thought you were just another trollop who wanted to bed the future king. I was wrong. Please allow me to earn your mercy by helping you. You are unfit to bathe yourself.” Sif slipped from her horse again and wrapped an arm around Eira’s shoulders. She assisted her to her feet, and helped her to strip down to her skin. Sif kicked off her own boots and armour, and stripped down to her tunic before leading Eira into the water.

“The Allfather is opposed to Thor’s suit, Sif.” Eira admitted as Sif cupped water between her hands to wet her hair.

“How did you manage to get blood in your hair, Eira?” Sif ignored Eira’s comment, and lathered her hair with soapwort.

“He feels my other duties too important.” Eira persisted, hoping Sif had perceived her secret. Sif stilled, fingers still tangled in the bloody mess of Eira’s hair.

“Your duties as a healer?” Sif questioned. Eira sighed. It had been too much to hope for. She so wanted to talk to a woman who had known Thor as a friend, who could help her puzzle out how her relationship with Thor could work, despite her calling.

“After a manner, yes.”

“I wonder if he worries because you are seen as a goddess.” Sif pondered.

“Thor is viewed as a god.” Eira dismissed. Sif snorted indelicately.

“He certainly is.” There was a secret in her laugh that Eira desperately wanted to know.

“You have a tale.” Eira’s curiosity got the better of her.

“Loki is a trouble maker. You know that. When we were younger, he felt life at court had become to boring. He decided to make some mischief, and assisted the Frost Giants in stealing Mjolnir.” Sif tilted Eira’s head back to rinse her hair, and began scrubbing her shoulders.

“But no one can lift –“

“This was before that. Don’t interrupt. The king of the giants demanded Freya as his bride in exchange for the hammer. Well, Freya wanted nothing to do with it. If Thor was stupid enough to lose his hammer, he could find a way to get it back. So Loki decided that they would dress as women, and say that Thor was Freya, and trick Thrym. So they borrowed clothing, and strapped boulders to Thor’s chest to give him a bust, and covered him in a veil. Loki presented Thor, saying he was Freya. But the hammer wasn’t there. Thrym had suspected a trick, so he said he would only return the hammer after the wedding vows were said. So Thor swore vows, and Thrym swore vows, and they retreated to the feast hall. Still no Mjolnir. Thrym wanted the feast eaten before he turned over the hammer. So Thor sat and ate the feast. And he ate! He devoured an entire pig, ate a number of chickens, part of an ox. He drank at least a cask of mead. Thrym was astonished and asked Loki, still dressed as a ladies maid, how his beautiful bride could take in so much food. Loki put on his finest lady voice and assured Thrym that his bride had been so excited about the wedding that she had been unable to eat since the arrangement had been made. Finally satisfied that Freya was truly his, Thrym ordered the hammer brought before the revelers. Well, as soon as Thor saw it, he tore of his bridal weeds, and called Mjolnir to him. He thrashed Thrym soundly, and called for Heimdall to bring him and Loki home. I have never seen anything like Thor dressed up as Freya. Once he returned home, he had Odin enchant it so no one else could ever lift it.” Sif cackled. Eira couldn’t help but laugh as well, at the though of Thor in a tunic and hangarok. Sif sluiced water down Eira’s back and continued scrubbing her clean.

“My point, Eira, is that the Midgardians are well aware of our failings. Especially those they view as gods. The goddesses seem more sacred to them. They pray louder to their goddesses, and are more reverent. No one’s life would have been in the balance had Thor been run through. But because you were, a man might have died. For an honest mistake.” Sif concluded. Eira grew somber again.

“So you think the Allfather might be concerned that a union between Thor and I might be bad for Midgard?” Eira was confused.

“Not bad for Midgard. But it might detract from their faith in you. We are the guardians of all the realms, Eira. As foolish as this notion of godhood is, it allows us to protect Midgard. Were the Northmen to lose faith in any of us, it might allow for forces that cannot be trusted to come into influence. Come, you grow chilled. Let us get you into the sun.” Sif assisted Eira to her feet and helped her to the grassy bank of the lake. Eira knew Sif’s theory was mostly based on untrue assumptions, but it was another piece in the puzzle of Odin’s continued censure of her courtship. Sif pulled her trousers back on, and sat with Eira. She drew a comb through her hair, worrying the tangles out. Eira covered her nakedness by drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them, which allowed Sif to reach all of her hair easily.

“I don’t know how to thank you for your help, Sif. I seem to struggle for the strength to do the simplest things.” Eira admitted. Sif dismissed her thanks with a wave of a hand.

“Tis nothing, Eira.” She stated. “Let me help you dress, and take you home.”


	17. Chapter 17

“It is well to see you moving without pain, Eira.” Loki observed her as she crossed the library to replace the book she had been reading while waiting for him to arrive for her lesson. Eira smiled.

“I still tire quickly, but I am so much improved. Of course, Bryn wants me nowhere near the ride yet, but I will wear her down.” Eira agreed quickly. There was a bounce to her step as she returned to the table and sat.

“What happened to our reluctant Valkyrie?” Loki’s face betrayed his surprise.

“It was the sadness of the work that made me hate the calling. But I’ve seen the joy of the men in Valhalla. The relief that they were worthy, the thrill of being reunited with their brothers in arms. Those of us who are left behind will always grieve, but I know now that my brother feasts with my father every night.” Eira explained. “I didn’t realize I’d come to accept and understand my calling until I was hurt, and unable to do my duty.”

Loki’s eyebrow rose in question and he sat across from her.

“I am not sure I believe you.” Loki commented. “Do you not still seek to wed my brother?”

A frown settled on Eira’s face, drawing down the sides of her mouth. She looked down at her hands then looked back to Loki, catching his direct stare.

“I will not lie to you, my friend. I would rather wed Thor a hundred times over than remain a Valkyrie. The Allfather still does not bend in his resolve, but he still gives me hope that I may yet be released and wed. He thought to alter my destiny by calling me, Loki. But what if what is written by the Norns cannot be altered?” Eira explained in a flurry of words. “Your father said that my calling as a Valkyrie would save me. And it has led me to you, and under your instruction my healing magic has become so much stronger. Maybe that is the salvation the Allfather meant. I never would have been able to develop my talent without you. My headaches, the nose bleeds, those have all stopped since you began teaching me.”

“It would not be the first time my father had used me as an instrument in his schemes.” Loki agreed darkly. He opened a book and began reading silently, making Eira wait. She sat back in her chair and let her mind wander, suddenly giggling. Loki looked up from his book and arched an eyebrow.

“Sif told me about the mischief you caused with Thor’s hammer. I was just imagining you both in women’s clothing.” Eira bit her lip, trying to restrain the laughter that was bubbling to the surface. It was no use. The picture in her mind, coupled with Loki’s look of surprise, was too much, and she collapsed against the table laughing. Loki pursed his lips into a wry smirk and waited. Eira regained her self-control and looked up at him, only to burst forth in another peal of laughter.

“Thrym must have been blind to think those shoulders, and that beard belonged on Freya.” Loki admitted with a chuckle. Eira had been almost calm, but the statement set her off again. Soon, there were tears accompanying the laughter, and Loki was egging her on, dropping tidbits about Thor’s costume, and make-up to prolong her agony. She held up a hand in surrender, wheezing for air and clutching her stomach.

“Stop, Loki, I beg of you. My belly aches, and I begin to feel sick!” Eira took a deep breath and wiped the corners of her eyes. 

“That’s not even the best caper I’ve pulled.” Loki teased. Eira shook her head.

“I beg you, none today.” She grinned broadly.

“We should pull a trick.” He had a conspiring grin, almost daring her to agree.

“I do not have your brilliant mind, Loki. I would give it away in a moment.” Eira shook her head. 

“Yes, you tend to radiate goodness. Such a shame.” He teased. “Let’s get down to business then. No more thinking about how lovely I look in a dress.” Eira rolled her eyes, but settled down to practicing the protection spells Loki had decided she needed to learn. They were deep into repelling spells, with Loki helping Eira to cast an invulnerable shield when Thor charged into the room, bounced off the invisible wall of the spell and fell backward on the floor, his helm skittering across the floor, and Mjolnir dropping heavily by his feet. Eira’s eyes widened and she tried not to laugh, but the scene had been so absurd that she couldn’t help herself. She hid her laughter behind a cough when Thor sat up, looking irritated.

“And you say you couldn’t get up to mischief, Eira.” Loki chuckled, his eyes wrinkled at the edges with mirth.

“Are you unhurt, Thor?” Eira walked toward him, after pulling back her magic. Thor flushed and embarrassed pink.

“I suppose I should have been less hasty in my entry.” He admitted. Eira couldn’t help herself, she laughed and offered her hand in assistance. He tilted his head and eyed her offered hand before pushing himself to his feet. Eira leaned down to pick up his helm and handed it to him.

“You do not think I could assist you to your feet?” She teased. Thor brushed himself off, then leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

“You are recovering from an illness, my love.” He smiled. “Loki, Father needs us. We are to depart for Svartalfheim on the morrow. There is rebellion brewing.”

“Is it to be war, or diplomacy?” Loki asked, immediately serious.

“Diplomacy. Father wants us to negotiate a peace between the Dark and Light Elves. Alfheim is near ruins and Svartalfheim does not fare much better. Eira, allow me to see you home, that we might have a chance to say goodbye.” Thor turned to Eira and took her hand. She nodded, dumbly, unsure what else to say. Thor turned and led her toward the library doors. She stopped and pulled her hand from him. 

“I must collect my things, Thor. Would it be too much to ask you to saddle Fleygur for me while I ready myself?” She asked. Thor nodded and kissed her gently.

“Of course. I will meet you at the gates.” He turned and departed, his step quick. Eira returned to the table and tidied the books she and Loki had been using. 

“May I borrow this one, Loki?” It was the volume on barrier spells that they’d been working from. Loki nodded. Eira carefully slid it into her haversack. She pulled out a packet of herbs and a vial of brown liquid and thrust them toward him.

“Take these. If you have need to heal anyone they will be handy. The herbs promote cleansing in a wound, and the liquid is for pain. Please stay safe, Loki.” She impulsively threw her arms around him and squeezed. Loki leaned back from the ring of her arms and gave a half-smile. He dipped his head and kissed her forehead.

“I will keep Thor safe.” He promised, pulling away.

“Keep Loki safe too, please, for he is my dear friend.” She chastised him, and departed. Loki stared after her for long after she was gone.

XXX

“These negotiations can take months, and we are starting from a worse place than last time we tried to forge peace between these realms. I do not know when I will return.” Thor stood by his horse in the drive outside Eira’s home. “As with last time, I will try to steal away to see you, but I make no promises, my love.”

Eira nodded, feeling the fool as she fought back tears. Thor stepped close and wiped his thumb across her cheek. Eira looked away, aware of the flush that was creeping up her neck.

“I’m a fool, crying for no good reason.”

“I will be safe.” Thor tipped her chin and kissed her. Eira melted into his arms and let his kiss reassure her. He pulled her into his arms, threading his fingers into her braid and deepened the kiss, his lips parting and tangling with hers. Eira’s breath caught as his teeth tugged at her lower lip. He pulled away and trailed kisses down her neck before finding her mouth again. His hand trailed down her back, gripping her waist and creeping lower to caress her hip. Eira struggled against her desire to pull Thor down to her rooms, ready to surrender to his evident desire. Her chest felt tight, like she was underwater and couldn’t catch her breath and finally, she pulled away from Thor’s hungry kisses. 

“Not now, Thor. Not on the eve of your departure.” She whispered. Thor broke away from the embrace, and ran his hand through his hair.

“You are right, of course. I truly do not seek to dishonour you by charging forward. I should go.” Thor gave her a look of such longing that her heart skipped. She reached forward and caressed his cheek, his short beard rough against her hand.

“Be vigilant. I love you.” Eira kissed him quickly and dropped her hand back to her side. It was the first time she had ever uttered the words, and they felt foreign.

“I will return to you as soon as I am able.” Thor turned and mounted his horse. He disappeared down the drive, never having uttered the words Eira needed to hear in response. She was left watching the dust of his path settle, wondering for the first time if Thor actually loved her in return.


	18. Chapter 18

Eira rode hard toward Valkyrjahús, the longhouse shared by the Valkyries. She was almost back to her previous strength, and she felt the call of the battlefield. She was not going to accept any further demands that she rest. She’d packed and repacked her saddlebags, making sure she had all the supplies she would need to tend the wounded. Eira was ready, and pushed Fleygur as hard as he could gallop to get to the other Valkyries before they road for the Bifrost. She reined in the warhorse and was leaping from his back before he’d fully come to a halt.

“Eira, what are you doing here?” Hrist was startled to see her friend striding toward the common room, partially armoured. 

“I am healed, and I have work to do.” Eira stated. Brynhildr rounded a corner and stopped to appraise Eira.

“I thought I heard your voice. You must prove to me you are safe to ride.” Bryn asserted, and without any warning, threw a dagger at Eira. Without thinking, Eira threw up the barrier spell she had been practicing with Loki, and the dagger clattered to the floor.

“What were you thinking?” Hrist screeched. “You could have hit us!”

“Not if Eira was ready. I asked Loki to work on protective magic with you, Eira. You’ve come far.” Bryn nodded. “Finish armouring, we ride for the Bifrost forthwith.”

Eira scrambled to strap her greaves to her legs, and helped Hrist with her vambraces. She pulled her helm and gauntlets from the armour tree, where Brynhildr had hung them when she was injured. The women met outside and mounted to ride to battle.

Eira felt an uneasy tightness in her belly. The last time Thor had been away on a political mission, it had come to war. She worried about what might be happening until the Bifrost bore them the Midgard, to a completely unrelated battle.

Eira worked until she was weary, and could hardly hold her spear. She was careful to make sure she looked vital and strong every time she came across one of her comrades, lest they tell Brynhildr she was flagging. When the last of the honoured dead had been escorted to Valhalla, she returned to the field to heal the wounded. 

XXX

Eira dropped into the Sea of Mist heavily. She was exhausted, right down into her bones. She took a deep breath and dunked her head before floating on the surface of the water, too tired to scrub the souvenirs of carnage from her skin. She stared at the sky, arms spread wide in the water.

“Too soon, sister?” Bryn waded to Eira’s side and sat down in the shallow water. She resumed bathing from her new vantage point.

“I lack stamina yet, but I cannot sit at home while my friends carry my share.” Eira pulled her arms to her side and sat, ready to scrub the mire from her skin.

“Such a great change has been wrought in you. Will you remain my sister though?” Brynhildr pondered.

“Loki asked me the same thing the last time I worked with him. I am content, Bryn. I have found acceptance and friendship among my shieldsisters, and realized the joy of seeing the glorious dead to their reward. But I would also be wed, and have a family. As much as I have come to esteem my place among the Valkyries, I do not believe it was what the Norns intended for my life.” Eira confessed.

“Then it remains in the hands of Odin still.” Bryn concluded. “What does your heart say when you think about spending your life as a Valkyrie? Apart from Thor?”

“It aches. And grieves.” Eira scrubbed her hair with an aggressive hand. 

“For the loss of Thor, or for the loss of motherhood?” Bryn pushed

“For both. What use am I as a healer who cannot bring life into our world?” Eira questioned.

“You are already a great healer, and have no children to recommend you.” Bryn argued. “There is more to life than this, or Thor, or a hundred babies at your knee, Eira. I think you need to have some more adventures before you settle.”

“Perhaps.” Eira agreed, and dunked her head to rinse her hair.

XXX

Eira had never seen a man as tall as the one who stood before her. Not a Midgardian man, anyhow. She had to wonder which of her shieldsisters had enjoyed the burden of carrying him to Valhalla, and how her poor horse was faring afterward. His shoulders were easily as broad as Fleygur was across the withers. Her arms were massive, roped with muscle. And his smile cut through his beard betraying a man who loved laughter and mirth. He held his tankard out to Eira, with a confident smirk.

“Will the sweet goddess bring me another mead? For healing, of course.” He teased. Eira laughed and took the outstretched tankard.

“Of course. Return to your place of honour. I will be with you anon.” It was the first time any of the men in Valhalla had ever acknowledged her as part of the Northman’s pantheon, and it struck her as ridiculous and amusing that he would bring it up. She filled his tankard and returned it presently.

“Your mead. Of the finest honey on Asgard.” Her smile was broad and she waited to see what he might come up with next.

“But did you treat it that I might live again?” He laughed.

“Of course not! Why would you return to Midgard, to battle again, when you can feast in Valhalla until Ragnarok?” Eira laughed. The man leaned across the table, as though he needed to impart a secret. Eira leaned in, conspiratorily.

“That I might die again, and be carried by your hand. Or that you might heal me, again and again.” He flirted.

“You wanton tease!” Eira laughed, rearing back to her own side of the table. “Believe me you, you are far better served in Valhalla than pining away for a Valkyrie.” She headed across the hall to serve other men, an amused smile remaining on her lips for long after the encounter. Jarni reached out and caught her arm, gesturing to a free seat beside him.

“Father would have words, Eira.” He smiled falsely at her. Eira sighed, knowing what was to come.

“You have been absent for a long time, daughter. Your sisters said you were unwell.” Sigbjorn gave her a careful assessment, but Eira knew he could not see the exhaustion that plagued her.

“I was run through during a battle. The wound was healed easily by Lo- by a healer, but the injury took much from me, and I am recovered.” Eira allowed that she might have a glass of mead while her father lectured her, and poured a small amount into her mead cup from the pitcher on the table.

“Who healed you? Not your mother?” Sigbjorn demanded. 

“No, another healer. Tis not important. What is important is that I am here and I am well.” Eira did not want to have to explain her friendship with Loki any more than she was going to have to justify her romance with Thor.

“I will have it somehow, Eira. I would like to know who I owe thanks to.” Her father’s tone was ominous. “But I would also know what nonsense has you carrying on with the prince.”

“Prince Thor courts me, father.”

“Prince Thor thinks only of warming his bed with a pretty girl. I’ve known the boy since he was a child. He does not court, Eira. He fucks. And then he forgets. He will not change.” The words were blunt and Eira felt them like a slap to her face.

“Father!” Eira gasped. Even Jarni looked surprised.

“I have been here too long. I forget that you are a lady, and yet a maiden as well. Pardon my vulgarity. But the harshness of my words does not make them any less true.” Sigbjorn apologized, taking a long draught of mead.

“He has asked the Allfather for my hand. So perhaps he has changed.” Eira’s words were clipped. Sigbjorn dropped his tankard to the table in surprise.

“The crown prince? Asks for my daughter’s hand?” He almost looked lost, his suprise was so great. Eira nodded.

“Eira, truly?” Jarni prompted. Eira shot Jarni a look, silencing him.

“And what did you say?” Sigbjorn asked.

“Tis not that simple, Father. The Allfather has not approved his suit.” Eira rose, knowing she could use the excuse of empty tankards to get out of the uncomfortable conversation. She wove through the revellers toward the mead casks, a number of empty pitchers in her hands. Upon refilling them, she returned them to their tables before seeing Bryn and Kara laughing at something she could not see. She made her way toward her friends, and caught sight of two of the most recently arrived men wrestling on the floor. It was ridiculous, and funny, as they were trying hard to best one another, and yet would not relinquish their tankards. Eira laughed and linked arms with Bryn.

“My father interrogates me fiercely.” She complained with a laugh. Bryn patted her head as though she were a puppy.

“Of course he does. He cannot challenge your lovers from his place in Valhalla!” Bryn laughed. “Fathers always want to meet the first man to hold their daughter’s heart. Just to make sure they are worthy.”

“Thor is worthy!” Eira protested.

“Eira, you cannot be blind to the man he was before he began courting you. The man your father knows is a warrior, with an appetite for war, women, and feasting. We have all seen the change you have wrought in him, but your father is here. Where he cannot see.” Bryn’s words comforted Eira, and Eira found herself feeling more at ease about the conversation with her father. She accepted a refill to her mead cup from Hrist, and relaxed, enjoying the monotony of serving the men, and the entertainment they provided as they got more into their cups. 

“There you are, sweet goddess!” Her large friend from earlier in the night wrapped her in a drunken embrace. Eira could not help but laugh as he deposited her back on the floor.

“You are too familiar, I do not even know your name, warrior!” She exlaimed with a laugh. His eyes widened in surprise and he dropped in a mocking bow.

“Thrainn, my lady goddess.”

“I have a name too, Thrainn.” She smacked him lightly on the shoulder. He stood back up and smiled.

“Am I allowed to call you by it?” Despite his genial nature, he seemed confused.

“Truly. I know you are but newly dead, but you will find soon enough I am no goddess.” She laughed.

“Eir it is then.”

“Eira.”

“Even more beautiful.” He pushed her hair off her face, and looked down at her. His hand moved across her shoulder, and Eira tensed, uncertain of what he was after. She was reassured when his fingers grasped the small silver hammer around her neck.

“A goddess who worships a god?” He cocked his head to one side in question. Eira let out a laugh and flipped the necklace from his fingers back under her tunic.

“A gift from my love.” She smiled. Thrainn smiled.

“And I supposed the thunder god is a mere man as well?”

“I suspect you could give him pause, Thrainn. I’ve never seen a Midgardian as broad and hale as you. Tis a wonder you were wounded, let alone met your death.” Eira admitted. Thrainn straightened up, proudly, making him even more imposing than he already was. 

“They call me half-giant in my village.”

“Understandable.” Eira smiled.

“I would steal a kiss from you, goddess, to make me feel at peace with my death.” Thrainn winked and stepped closer. Eira had become accustomed to the flirtation of the dead, and tilted her cheek toward him. He leaned down and made to kiss her cheek, but as his lips grazed her skin, he tilted her face and took her lips with his, quickly. The men all around cheered, and Thrainn hoisted her over his shoulder with ease.

“Now where would I find an alcove for privacy?” He joked, and slapped her rump. Eira panicked and thrust a barrier spell between her and the man, causing him to drop her on the floor. He looked surprised to see her at his feet. Brynhildr and Kara were suddenly in front of her.

“You have had too much mead, warrior.” Kara snatched his tankard away.

“The Vaklyries are not pleasure-toys.” Bryn added, and helped Eira to her feet. The women escorted Eira back to the mead casks.

“You are unharmed, Eira?” Kara asked.

“Of course.” Eira smiled at Brynhildr. “Perhaps I do not need any more adventures, though, sister.”

Bryn let out a relieved laugh.

“Perhaps not.” She agreed.


	19. Chapter 19

Midgard, when it was not raining, and muddy, and awash in blood, had a particular beauty that appealed to Eira, down to her very soul. The trees were so tall, and so green, the water was so dark and cold, the air was so fresh with the scent of life. There was little to condemn it. She sat at the edge of the forest, carving an apple into slices. She fed one to Fleygur, and then ate one herself. Even the apples in Midgard were more flavourful than those in Asgard. Eira felt it must have been the reward for having so short a life that the Midgardians got to enjoy such excess. Excess in beauty, excess in flavours, excess in smells. To feel and be around Midgard was a feast for her senses. It was no surprise to her that every living plant on Midgard held a curative property. Silverweed for cleansing, white mynt for stomach troubles, lavendyr for calming and fighting festering wounds, everything had a purpose. Most Midgardians would never know how truly blessed they had been.

Eira crushed some white mynt between her fingers, and inhaled the pungent sweetness. She was constantly amazed at which ingredients immediately had a scent or flavour, while others, particularly the roots, needed more preparation before their special qualities were seen. The honey from the bees on Midgard was so pure it could be smeared on burns and wounds and immediately go to work, but the liquorice root needed boiling before it could be drunk in a tea to bring about a lifting of spirit and joy. She was brought back from her ponderings by a shadow moving across her. She looked up and saw a man approaching, backlit by the sun. Eira slowly moved her hand to her dagger, and abandoned the mint she had been harvesting to roll onto her toes, ready to run if she needed.

“Eira!” It was Thor.

“What are you doing here?” Eira sheathed her dagger, and rose, surprised. He opened his arms and welcomed her into his arms.

“I missed you. I was back to Asgard for more troops, as the truce is yet weak. While they prepared, I had Heimdall search you out for me.” He kissed her gently.

“I would you had more time, you must need to return quickly.” Eira sighed. Thor tugged her braid and smiled.

“No, tis enough. Any more and I might push, and I want to be better than that.” Thor kissed her, cutting her off before she could protest. “You are worth any wait, Eira. Please know. I am not a patient man. You have been put in my path to teach me the value of patience. So now I must learn, and stop pressing my suit.”

“Where has this come from, Thor?” Eira tipped her head to one side, pleased, but not understanding the change.

“Too much mead with Loki. He protects you as a brother would.” Thor laughed. “He has said, and rightly, that should I truly love you, it should be no hardship to wait.”

“I am without words.” Eira had nothing she could say. “How do I know that you are my Thor, and not an illusion brought on by too much sun on this beautiful Midgard day?” She laughed as Thor pulled his tunic up, and showed her the scar on his side.

“You healed me.”

“I should have removed that scar.” Eira laughed again, and reached out.

“No. I would keep it. You saved my life. A reminder is no burden.” Thor dropped his tunic and leaned forward to kiss her. “I must return, and march the force to Svartalfheim. Heimdall!” 

The Bifrost opened and in a flash of sparkling colour, pulled Thor back to Asgard. Eira turned back to her plants and went back to work, with a lighter heart, despite the protracted separation she knew she was to endure.

XXX

Three months. It had been three months since the day in Midgard, and Thor had yet to sneak away again. Eira was sick with pining. There had been prolonged peace on Midgard, which left her with more time than she cared to mark. She had been studying more about Midgardian healing, but with no one to practice on, even that had lost its appeal. Halla had taken to chasing her out to the stables to keep Fleygur fit, and Eira rode out to Valkyrjahús near daily. Her armour gleamed and was in perfect repair. Her shieldsisters were also at loose ends, unsure what to do with so much peace. She had determined that she would sew a new arming tunic weeks earlier, and was now adding beautiful and elaborate knots around the hems.

“I’ve taken a Midgardian lover.” Kara blurted as she sharpened the tip of her spear again. She always defaulted to sharpening her spear or dagger when she was bored. It was a surprise either of them still held an edge from the abuse she gave them.

“You’ve what?” Eira was shocked, and her voice came out a squeak. She dropped her sewing into her lap, stabbing herself with the bone needle. Brynhildr laughed.

“Midgardians don’t count, Eira. At least, they don’t seem to.” She clapped Eira on the back.

“What if you became with child?” Eira’s horror was evident in the deep whisper of her words.

“I won’t, Eira.” Kara laughed. “There are herbs that prevent it on Midgard. But if I were to fall with child, I am sure his wife would raise it.” Eira gasped in horror.

“Kara!” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Eira, I live here, in Valkyrjahús. I cannot raise a child. And I couldn’t keep a Midgardian babe here in Asgard. The Allfather would never allow it.” Kara explained. “I wouldn’t be the first, Eira.” 

Eira felt a little sick at the thought. Bryn squeezed her shoulder.

“She won’t have a babe, Eira. Do not fret.” She reassured her friend. “Now, tell us how you fare. Has your prince stolen home again since the day on Midgard?”

“No, sadly he has been absent. I so want to storm up to the Allfather and demand an accounting, but as I am not betrothed, it is not my place.” Eira sighed. She buffed the edge of her helm absently. Kara nudged her and waggled her eyebrows.

“Mayhap you need a Midgardian lover too? Oh, or that mighty brute I carried to Valhalla, he was very taken with you, Eira.” Kara teased. Eira laughed and threw her arming tunic at Kara. The women all stilled as they felt a pull in their hearts. 

“A battle!” Hrist was the first to her feet. The rest of the shieldmaidens quickly armoured and met for the ride to the Bifrost.

XXX

Eira was haunted by her conversation with her shieldsisters as she went through the motions of escorting the honoured dead to Valhalla. She was distracted by her thoughts of Thor, and lovers and wondered if she was wrong to be so frugal with her virtue. She began to think that perhaps she could force Odin’s hand, were she to finally succumb to the temptation of being with Thor. The prolonged wait for Odin to change his mind might be prompted to action were she to give herself to his son. The thought tormented her for the rest of the battle. 

By the time she was healing the wounded, her frustration was gnawing at her belly. A soft rain had begun to fall, and not long after she was dripping wet, the lightning started. Eira glanced up at the sky, hopefully, but the lightning seemed completely commonplace. As her eyes passed the treeline though, she saw the silhouette of a large man, a cloak flapping in the wind. She finished the spell on the wounded man and rose, shielding her eyes from the lightning above her with her hand, and squinting into the distance. She just made out the distinctive wings on the man’s helm and her heart leaped in her chest. She ran toward him, dropping her healing bag beside Fleygur. She didn’t stop to confirm it was Thor, she didn’t even slow down, she just threw herself into his arms. He wrapped them around her and pulled her off her feet

“I have been so lost without you.” He murmured and pressed his lips against hers, chastely.

“And I you.” She laid her head against his chestplate. It was uncomfortable, but she drew comfort in the familiarity of the medallions on the armour, and the way they felt, cool against her warm skin. The rain slowed, and the clouds parted, leaving a beautiful afternoon. Healers continued to glean the field for the living.

“I only have this night. When you are finished your healing work, meet me at the lake beyond the trees. I have a meal packed for us, we can watch the sun setting, and you can see how the stars on Midgard differ from our own.” He set her back on her feet carefully. Eira glanced over her shoulder at Fleygur, knowing the warhorse sheilded her spear and shield. She squinted across the field and saw Brynhildr carrying on a conversation with Freya.

“I will meet you. As soon as I can get free.” Eira promised with a quick kiss. Thor disappeared into the trees and Eira made her way to Brynhildr with her shield, spear and helm.

“Sister! Freya and I have been debating. She says that Loki is more handsome, but I say that Thor is. What say you?” Bryn winked, her smile full of mischief. Eira laughed.

“That is hardly a fair comparison!” Eira declared. Freya’s brow furrowed.

“Why not? Are you so partial to Thor than you cannot see Loki’s charms?” Freya demanded. Eira shook her head, laughing.

“On the contrary, Freya. Loki is a dear friend. He is fiercely intelligent, and full of amusements. He is tall, and strong, and handsome. His magic is the greatest I’ve ever seen. It’s not fair because he is my dear friend, but I love his brother.” Eira admitted.

“Can you not love both of them? I could.” Freya’s comment was a promise of seduction, should she get near either man. Bryn watched the exchange with avid interest.

“We may have different idea of love, Freya.” Eira couldn’t help but laugh again. “Loki is my friend, my confidant, my teacher. I love him. As a sister would her favoured brother. But my romantic heart is engaged elsewhere.”

“The hammer counterbalances many flaws, does it not?” Freya teased, her voice rife with innuendo. Eira flushed.

“Thor is good and kind.” She argued weakly. Bryn burst out laughing.

“Oh, Eira, you make him sound like a consolation prize.” She tormented her friend. Eira rolled her eyes.

“Can you please take my helm, and weapons back to Valkyrjahús? I will be late to Valhalla tonight.” Eira changed the subject with an arched eyebrow. Bryn leaned back and appraised her friend, wondering what the secret was that it could not be shared in front of Freya. She finally nodded.

“Of course. Odin protect you on your return.” Brynhildr agreed. Eira dropped her battle pieces, and made her way back to Fleygur. She mounted the war steed and headed into the woods toward the lake and Thor.


	20. Chapter 20

Eira wasted no time mounting Fleygur to ride through the woods to the lake. She wanted to bathe before meeting Thor, but couldn’t divine a way to wash other than at the lake she where was meeting him. Because of her unkempt state, she did not rush to meet him, instead preferring to enjoy the ride. She admitted to herself that maybe she was nervous, after all the thoughts that had crowded her mind throughout the day. As she rode through the trees, she became more disquieted, and could feel anxiety bubbling up her chest, causing her heart to race and breath to catch. She spotted a patch of lavender in a sunbeam and reigned in her horse. 

Eira dismounted and knelt at the small bush. The fragrance was a balm, and she could feel her tensions melting away. She all but buried her face in the tiny flowers on each stem, inhaling deeply until her heart slowed to its usual rhythm, and the nausea her disquiet caused settled. She snapped a few sprigs from the shrub and stuck them into the top of her breastplate where she would have but to bend her head to drink in their soothing bouquet.

Rather than mount Fleygur again, Eira led him by the reins through the forest. The trees at the centre of the small copse were densely packed, with low hanging branches that the steed had to bow his head to miss. She was better served on foot. After a while, they broke through the verge of the woods, out into the waning afternoon sun. It was still warm, and licked her skin with its warmth, but it was beginning its evening descent. Eira spotted Thor at the water’s edge as she approached the lake. Further from the water, away from where he sat, he’d laid out a blanket, and a basket she knew would be laden with the best and most delectable foods for their dinner.

She led Fleygur to a tangle of lush grass and dropped his reins knowing he would go nowhere, no matter how long she neglected attending him. She slipped her boots off and left them beside the horse, padding toward Thor on bare feet. He looked up from contemplating the water and a broad smile cut across his handsome face. He had already shed his armour, and was wearing a simple, thin white tunic, with a deep keyhole cut in the neck. The flap of the neckline lay open, exposing the golden curls of his chest hair. He looked content, at peace and wholly desirable.

“You came.”

“You doubted I would?” She asked, sitting beside him. He slipped his arm around her, wrinkled his nose, and dropped his arm.

“Eira, you stink of battle.” He laughed.

“Of course I do. Did you not find me on the battlefield?” She retorted, smiling. “I have my bathing kit in my saddlebags. If you would be a gentleman and turn away-“

Thor interrupted by catching her lips with his own. His kiss had a different hunger than it had when he had left for Svartalfheim. He was gentler, but more insistent, leaving Eira dizzy with want. He broke the kiss, and she was pleased to note he was just as affected by the passion there as she was, his chest drawing in deep breaths. His eyes seemed different, maybe bluer, as though the brightness of his desire had accented their colour. His cheeks were as flushed as hers.

“I stink, Thor. Surely we cannot dine with me covered in battle gore. I must bathe.” She placed a hand on his cheek and he leaned his face into her palm, turning to kiss her it. Eira’s breath caught as his hand slid to the buckles at the shoulder of her breastplate. He carefully released the clasp, and moved to her side to unfasten the buckles under her arm and at her waist. He slipped the breastplate off, and laid is on the ground reverently before standing. He assisted Eira to her feet, and unlashed the belt holding her cuisses, untangling the lacing behind her knees before laying them across the breastplate.

“I would not have thought I would ever be helping a woman disarm.” Thor murmured before slipping her vambraces off, and kneeling to unfasten her greaves. He ran his hand up the outside of her thigh, his touch so soft it felt as though he was worshipping her. Eira shivered.

“I never thought a prince would assist me.” Eira murmured as Thor stood, and stole another soft, but assertive kiss. His hands found the lacing on her arming tunic, and worked the knots in the linen ties free. He slid his fingers across her bare shoulders, never breaking the kiss, slipping the tunic from her arms, and leaving it where it fell. The breeze teased her exposed skin, and a wave of gooseflesh prickled across her shoulders. 

The rough skin of Thor’s hands on her back felt like he had brought down lightning from Mjolnir to dance across her flesh, and without knowing what she did, she found herself wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into the torturous kiss that she could not break away from. She didn’t want to break away from it. Thor broke their embrace for long enough to pull his tunic over his head before pulling her back to him, not once looking away from her face. He slowly maneuvered them to the water’s edge as he kissed down the side of her neck, across her shoulder, down her arm. She started at the lap of the cold water on her feet, and could feel Thor’s smile on her skin, the deep rumble of amusement thrumming in her chest.

“Oh, the cold water is funny, my prince?” Eira scolded, with a laugh in her tone. She drew his face back to her own, and took him in a deep kiss. When he pulled her back into his arms in response, she laced her leg between his and fell backward, pulling him into the water on top of him. When they surfaced, he was sputtering, and wet. He rolled back onto his knees, and wiped the water from him face. Eira untangled her legs from between his knees, completely unselfconscious of they way she must look. She was propped up on her elbows in the shallows of the water, knees bent on either side of Thor’s, laughing. Her trousers were slick to her skin. Thor looked down at her, and splashed a handful of water across her bare breasts.

“As enticing as this picture is, Eira, you are still filthy. Your bathing items are in your saddlebags?” He rose and turned toward Fleygur, crossing the spanse in a few broad steps. He rifled through the bag on the horse’s hip, and pulled out a roll of linen, quickly identifying it as a clean tunic and hangarok. He laid it on the smooth rocks beside the water, and unrolled it, pulling the small pouch of soapwort from the pile of grooming supplies. While he was rummaging through her clothing, Eira drew in her breath and quickly pulled her trousers off, throwing them onto the shore with a wet splat. Thor’s head turned to the pile and he picked up the dark garment and studied it. He dropped it back to the ground and looked toward Eira, who had seated herself in waist deep water with her back to the shore. She was scrubbing her arms with sand, flaking away dried blood and caked on dirt.

Eira could hear another moist pile being discarded on the shore, and felt the water ripple toward her as Thor walked back into the shallows. He dropped the pouch over her shoulder and sat behind her, pulling her between his legs. He began to wet her hair, cupping his hands and pouring the cool lake water over the crown of her head. 

“The soapwort.” He put his hand over her shoulder, holding it open. Eira dropped a handful of dried flowers into his palm. He crushed them between his hands, and moistened them, rubbing his palms together until they lathered. Thor’s fingers were strong and relaxing, rubbing through her scalp, working the suds into her long hair. Eira bent forward to scrub her legs while he continued working the soap into her tresses. He pulled a handful of suds from the length, and began to massage the soap into her back and shoulders. Eira abandoned washing her legs, and leaned back into his strong ministrations, sighing in contentment. Thor rinsed her shoulders, sluicing the lather from her with handfuls of water. He followed his hand with his mouth, a teasing trail down the line of her neck. He cupped her chin in his hand, and leaned close, nipping at her jaw from over her shoulder.

“We should rinse your hair, my love.” His voice was rough. Eira slipped from between his legs and waded into the deeper water, diving in and letting the current of her movement rinse the soap. She resurfaced, and stood, tipping her head back into the water, and scrubbing the remaining suds from her hair. Thor met her in the deeper inky water, pulling her close at the waist. Eira took a moment to admire the way the water beaded across his muscular arms, and raised a hand to touch the soft hair the water had tangled against his chest. His hand slid up from her waist, his thumb spreading across her ribcage until it met her sternum. He curled his fingers gently over her breast, his touch soft. Eira’s breath caught.

“If you are not ready, Eira. I will stop. But I cannot know your mind.” His face dipped low as he spoke, their mouths barely a breath apart. Eira shook her head.

“I am ready.” She breathed. He brought his hand from her waist to cup her cheek again.

“You are certain? I would not dishonour either of us by-“

“Stop being so noble, and kiss me again.” Eira interrupted and pulled his face down to hers. She pressed herself against the full length of his body, the uncomfortable press of his erection against her hip. Without breaking their kiss, he scooped her up in his arms, and carried her back to shore. He laid her gently down on the blanket, sliding between her legs as he laid her against the soft wool.

“This may hurt.” He warned her. Eira gasped but felt no pain, just the overwhelming reassurance that this was right.

XXX

Thor leaned back against the tree, drawing Eira close. She snuggled into his chest on her side, threading her legs under one of his. He smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead. Eira sighed with contentment. After they’d made love, Thor had laid out their dinner while she washed again. He combed out her hair after she got dressed, plaiting into a loose braid. They ate in silence, only letting their hands slip apart to serve themselves more food. The sun was setting now, and they nestled into the hollow of a tree to watch the coming of the night. Eira laid her head against Thor’s bare chest, trailing her fingers along the contours of the muscles of his arm. She felt a tear drop from her eyes onto his chest, and wiped it away.

Thor tilted her head up and looked deeply into her eyes.

“Have I hurt you?” His words were a horrified whisper.

“No, Thor. I have no idea why I weep.” Eira dashed away more tears, laughing wetly. She dropped her hand to his side, and distracted herself by tracing the ridges and lumps of the scar where she wounded him. “You are sure you would not have me remove this scar?”

“I like it. It reminds me of your ferocity.” He laughed. Eira leaned back in confusion.

“How would it do that?” She laughed uneasily. Thor smiled in reassurance.

“The way you ran to me, and threw yourself down to heal me. You are as fierce as a Valkyrie.”  
Thor kissed the crown of her head and tightened his arms around her, enveloping her in a familiar spicy scent that comforted her deep into her core. They enjoyed the sunset in silence.

XXX

“Stay, Eira. Stay this night with me. Only the Norns know when I will be able to slip away to you again.” Thor was helping her tie her armour across Fleygur’s rump when he spoke. Eira sighed.

“Tis not so easy. I must go, I have to meet with my sist–“ Eira cut herself off, “I have to meet my mother to tend to the sick at home.” 

Thor didn’t seem to notice her slip, and pulled her close for another soft, gentle kiss.

“They will survive without you for one night. Is there no way to convince you?” He murmured against her ear. His hand slid along her tunic, just firmly enough that the contact between the linen and her skin ignited her desire again. She groaned as he caressed her hip, his hand playing across the curve and moving to cup her bottom. 

“Just a while longer.” She acquiesced, and allowed him to pull her back to the blanket under the tree.

She wakened alone as the last of the morning stars were winking out, and the sun was beginning to lighten the sky. She sat up with a start, looking for Thor. He was seated at the water’s edge again. She sat down beside him and slipped his arm around her. He smiled down at her and then looked back across the water, toward the rising sun.

“Why not at home?” She asked. “Not that I complain. I can’t imagine anything that could match this night at home. But why not there?”

“My father does not know I’ve slipped away. I’m sure Heimdall has seen me, but the Allfather does not know. You are too good for the gilded bed I’ve carelessly shared with too many before. I will replace it before we are wed.” He murmured, leaning his forehead against hers. His words soothed her. “Moreover, I know the fondness you hold for Midgard. And now you will have more to think on when you think of Midgard.”

The sun crested across the horizon, and Eira sighed heavily. She rose, and dusted herself off. Thor followed suit.

“I would this night could never end, but I must be back to Asgard, Thor.” She pulled her boots on. Thor gathered her in his arms for one last kiss. 

“I will be back again, as soon as I may. I want to leave you less now than I ever have before.” He admitted. “Be safe. I love you.”

“And I you.” Eira fitted her foot in the stirrup and pulled herself up onto Fleygur’s back. With much reticence, she made her way back through the forest toward the war field, hoping to harvest a few more plants before she called on Heimdall to bring her home.


	21. Chapter 21

Eira felt lighter somehow, like a burden had been lifted from her, or she had gotten away with some great caper. She wasn’t sure what exactly she was expecting, but Odin hadn’t appeared at the moment of her and Thor’s joining, to cast her from the Valkyries. Ragnarok did not come, the realms did not crash around their feet. It was almost as though she had a secret delight that no one else knew about.

She lingered on Midgard, collecting plants for near an hour before calling Heimdall to open the Bifrost and bring her home. She realized that she had not yet heard the Bifrost open for Thor as the familiar thrum enclosed her and pulled her home.

Eira made her way to Valkyrjahús to check in after her absence from Valhalla. She was not sure how to explain herself, but hoped there would not be many questions. She wanted to have something special and secret to keep to herself. She drew up to the longhouse, pulled her armour and saddlebags down and carried her things into the armour room. She hung her armour on her armour tree and made her way into the main room, digging in her saddlebags the whole while. She handed a thick bundle of long stems to Brynhildr.

“Is this a bribe?” Bryn arched an eyebrow.

“No, silverweed. To ease the pain of your courses. You complained last month, and I think they fast approach.” Eira laughed as she sat. Bryn took the bundle and smelled them.

“How does it work?” Bryn asked.

“Brew it into a tea. It doesn’t smell very nice, so you might want to add honey, in case it tastes bad.” Eira offered.

“You mean you haven’t tried it yourself? Am I to be your victim in experimentation?” Bryn laughed. Eira joined her, shaking her head.

“Not at all! The healers I’ve spoken with on Midgard all swear it helps.” She promised. Bryn narrowed her eyes.

“Is that where you were last night?” Bryn inquired, with a smirk. Eira couldn’t stop the colour from rushing to her face.

“I was on Midgard, yes.” She admitted.

“You sly thing!” Kara squealed. “A Midgardian lover? I thought you were content with Thor?”

Eira felt herself growing more red, if it were possible. She looked down at her feet and said nothing. 

“I think perhaps not a Midgardian.” Bryn commented wryly.

“I think perhaps we needn’t discuss this.” Eira muttered.  
“Perhaps you should have been in Valhalla instead, if you wanted to keep your daliances secret. Who were you with, Eira?” Bryn laughed. Eira looked up at her friend sharply.

“Who do you think I was with?” She snapped. Kara let out a whoop of triumph and shoved Bryn in the shoulder.

“I told you she was with Thor! I told you!” She crowed and looked over at Eira. “I bet Bryn a new bone comb that was who you were with!”

“And Asgard yet stands. Mayhap you’ll get your cake and eat it too.” Bryn smirked. Eira laughed and hid her face in her hands.

“You tease me too much!” She protested. Bryn laughed and rubbed her hand along Eira’s back.

“No, sister. We tease just enough. You have some duties today, since you were too busy to join us last night. I’m not sure if you are well-rested enough though. No matter. The stables need shoveling.” Brynhildr laid out the consequence for Eira’s absense. Eira nodded in acceptance.and went to change into a work tunic and trousers.

XXX

Eira fell into her bed, exhausted. She’d been fatigued to her breaking point for weeks, and on those days that the Valkyries rode to war, she could barely keep her eyes open by the time they made it to Valhalla. Winter had come to Midgard, and she couldn’t shake the chill that seeped into her bones when they road across snow covered battlefields, gleaning the dead.

She was ill with something, sneezing frequently, and coughing, sometimes until she threw up. And interminibly nauseated. And bloated, like nothing she ate agreed with her. 

Halla crept into her room, and sat on the edge of her bed. She ran her hand along Eira’s arm, holding her hand at Eira’s wrist for a moment. She moved her hand up and held her wrist against Eira’s forehead. She sighed heavily and shook her head.

“This cold is beyond my skills to treat, sweetling. You need rest. Soup. Sleep. I will send word to Frigga and see if she may have the time to come and see you. Perhaps there is a spell.” Halla pulled the blankets up over Eira’s shoulders. Eira fell into a fitful sleep, too tired to protest that all she needed was a nap. She wakened when a cool hand ran across her forehead.

“She burns with a fever.” Eira forced herself to look to the source of the words. Frigga had come, and was sitting on the bedside, leaning over Eira. She placed her hand back on Eira’s forehead and Eira felt the gentle pulse of Frigga’s healing magic wash through her. She closed her eyes and relaxed, but did not sleep.

“What ails her, Your Majesty?” Halla asked, her voice brimming with concern. Eira heard Frigga sigh.

“It is difficult for me to tell. Eira’s body is unique. Valkyries cannot die, but they can certainly sicken, and weaken. And untreated, their illnesses can last much longer because of their immortality. I wish that Loki were here. His magic has a way of penetrating even the strangest of mysteries.” Frigga admitted.

“Can he be sent for?” Halla asked. There was a long silence, and Eira slipped back to sleep again before she could protest that the women were unnecessarily concerned. 

When she wakened again, before Halla could attend to her, she washed herself and went out into the garden with a manuscript. She could feel her strength returning with every ray of sun that hit her. She was leaning against the fountain, legs outstretched before her, when Loki bolted through the garden gate toward her. He was paler than usual, and his brow was furrowed with concern and uncertainty. He stopped in his tracks a few feet from her, and gaped.

“You don’t look sick.” He stated, the pinched look around his eyes disappearing.

“I have been fatigued. Tis a cold. My mother worries overmuch.” Eira dismissed.

“Well, my mother does not. And she had me summoned from Svartalfheim.” He took a few steps closer and stooped over to feel her forehead. She swatted his hand away and went back to her book.

“Tis nothing, Loki.” She snapped. The fatigue was taking its toll on her good nature. She felt worn, spread thin, and her temper was quicker to ignite. Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Such fire, Eira. Who knew a healer would be such a terrible patient? You weren’t like this when you were run through.” He sat beside her and narrowed his eyes. “You will let me look you over, Eira. My mother has commanded it.”

“I was unconscious when I was run through.” Eira sighed and turned to face him, crossing her legs and putting her book off to one side.

“That book appears heavy enough. Would you like me to strike you with it and render you unconscious again?” Loki teased, but his tone was stern.

“If I let you assess me, will you leave this alone?” She asked, irritable. Loki nodded. “Fine.”

Loki laid his wrist across her forehead for a moment, and then pulled it back and laid it across his own. 

“Mother said you had a fever. It seems to have broken.”

“Because this is merely a cold, Loki.” Eira snapped. Loki pursed his lips and made to continue his assessment. Eira sighed and rolled her eyes. He placed his hand across her chest, his index finger and thumb running along her collarbone. She felt a small pull as his magic slipped into her and she found herself watching his face, unable to look away. His eyes were closed, and he nodded to himself as though he were marking a list in his mind as the magic flowed through her. His lips moved silently, repeating the incantation that was allowing him to see inside her. His strength was not healing magic, but he had an uncanny way of twisting his magic to do his bidding regardless of what he asked of it. 

Eira could follow the course of magic as it wove through her chest, and spread across her shoulders and down her arms. It crept past her heart and slid toward her legs, leaving her feeling warm. Once her whole body was filled with the languid glow of Loki’s spell, his lips stopped moving, and his head moved as though he were actually looking around. With a shock that was enough to push him away from her, and arc tiny sparks from his fingers, he pulled away, his eyes flying open. The colour left his face, and Eira could see that he was struggling to catch his breath.

“What have you seen, Loki?” Eira reached for his hand. He pulled it back, and stared at it in disbelief.

“The vestigial magic you haven’t trained. It shut me out of your body. I was unable to see all that I sought.” Loki admitted, still looking shaken.

“Were you able to see anything?” Eira asked. Loki’s eyes flashed, and he looked away, shaking his head.

“You are not unwell, Eira.” He finally looked back to her, meeting her eye. Eira released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “You were right. Tis fatigue, and nothing more. I should go. I’m still needed in Svartalfheim.”

Loki rose effortlessly. Eira scrambled to her feet beside him.

“Must you? You’ve been gone so long, Loki. I miss our lessons.” She tried to entice him to stay for longer, to visit, and laugh over tales of his misdeeds.

“I have been teaching you at my father’s request, Eira. I am a prince, not a nanny for unruly Valkyries.” His tone was severe. Eira recoiled as though he’d struck her, tears immediately springing to her eyes.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I miss you, Loki. You’ve become my dearest friend.” Eira’s words were slow, and quiet. She looked away, and wiped the tears with the corner of her sleeve. Loki placed his hand on her shoulder.

“I am sorry. I am tired and overworked. I spoke out of turn. I value your friendship similarly, Eira. Please don’t be cross with me.” He apologized. Eira pulled her shoulder away from him, angry with herself for being petulant, and angry with Loki for making her so.

“Go then.” She mumbled. Loki sighed and sat on the rim of the fountain.

“I would know I haven’t hurt your heart first.” His posture was forced, as though he was making himself appear relaxed, when he really wasn’t. Eira narrowed her eyes.

“What did you see when you wove your spell?” She demanded. Loki looked away, sighed again, and looked back.

“I saw nothing. I told you, the latent magic you’ve never worked pushed me out. It was protecting you.” He admitted. Eira thought it sounded plausible, despite not understanding the breadth and depth of the magic ability she possessed.

“So I am not ill.”

“You are in perfect health for a woman in your,” He stumbled over his words, “of your age.”

“A woman of my age? You make me out as though I am a crone!” She exclaimed with a laugh. Loki flinched.

“You are in perfect health, Eira” He assured her, his smile forced. Eira wondered how that could be if she was so unnaturally tired, and said as much to Loki. He shrugged.

“The cold symptoms, the sneezing, it could be a reaction to something you’ve brought back from Midgard. You’ve collected many plants into your garden.” He suggested. Eira looked at the healer’s garden she had been planting from the transplants from Midgard. It made sense.

“That would account for the fatigue too.” She murmured. Loki rose from his place at the fountain, and stepped close, pushing Eira’s hair off her shoulder. They were closer than Eira knew she should be comfortable standing, but she made no move to make space between them, instead placing a hand over his heart. There was something so familiar, so comforting about the feel of him. Something about the cool comfort of his touch, and the sweet tangy scent he shared with his brother. Eira supposed it was partly that connection with Thor that made her feel so at ease with him. She met his gaze and smiled, matching the tired bags under his eyes with her own.

“Eira, please know. I would never do anything to deliberately harm you. I am only a man, and a flawed one at that. But know my heart now, you are the dearest thing I have in this world, and my closest friend. I am sorry to have aggrieved you. Please forgive me. I am sure, that as a fool, I will do many things more that will hurt you, but you must understand that will never be my intention. I am much better at mischief than I am as a friend.” He kissed her forehead. Eira wrapped her arms around his waist, and laid her head on his chest.

“You were merely a little sharp, Loki. You needn’t be so effusive.” Eira laughed lightly, her good mood restored. Loki rubbed his hands down her back before releasing you.

“Well, it stands. I am sure I will do something daft and hurt you again, no matter how minor or how great the wound.” He laughed. “I really must go though, Eira. Before I am missed.”

“How would you be missed? Heimdall knows your whereabouts!” Eira exclaimed. Loki shook his head.

“There are secret paths between the worlds that even Heimdall does not monitor. Frigga asked me to be discrete in my visit, lest the Elves think we put the welfare of a single Asgardian above the importance of their peace treaty. Even the Allfather does not know I am here.” Loki bowed with a wink and made his way out of the garden courtyard. Eira lingered in the garden a while longer, but the fatigue she’d held at bay while Loki was visiting came crushing down on her, and she retired to her room for a nap.


	22. Chapter 22

Eira cinched her breastplate in, holding her breath. She flinched as it compressed her breasts, and groaned at having to let the buckle out one notch. In the six weeks since Loki had told her she was fine, she’d been steadily gaining weight, despite nausea so severe she had to force herself to eat. And the fragile peace on Midgard had shattered into many small factions, constantly at war. Eira wondered if they had not finally decided to wipe one another completely from the face of the world. She couldn’t remember a stretch of more than two days that the Valkyries hadn’t ridden out since she’d seen Loki. It was no wonder she continued to fall into her bed, asleep before she hit the mattress. With all of the factors combined against her, she couldn’t understand where the weight gain was coming from. Her arming tunic strained across her bust, and pinched at her hips, and the belt that held her cuisses in place needed to be loosened a notch as well. She felt unwieldy and awkward with in her new shape, and everything was tender.

Eira mounted Fleygur and fell in with the other women, ready to ride to the Bifrost and on to Midgard. They set down on the far side of a copse of trees, the thrum and light from the Bifrost unnoticed to the warriors on the other side of the woods, so great was the noise of the battle. They wound their way through the trees, quietly spreading out so that each woman could survey the battle. Eira caught sight of a huge man in a wolf pelt, mowing through his opposition, hewing down two and three men at a time with his huge battle-axe.

“Berserkers.” She nudged Brynhildr and pointed at the man, who must have appeared unstoppable to his foes. Bryn sucked in a jagged breath.

“We hold off as long as we can. I want none of you run through as Eira was. Let’s not test the will of the Norns. I’m sure if your head is separated from your shoulders, even the promise of immortality won’t save you.” She spoke quickly to the assembled Valkyries. The women stood sentinel over the battle for hours, waiting for the fighting to slow. Freya appeared between Brynhildr and Eira silently. She looked gravely across the field and shook her head.

“I hate when they dose those men and turn them into animals.” She grumbled. “The screams of the dead haunt me. I would have my half and be gone from this place.”

“The screams of the dead?” Eira asked. Freya nodded.

“I hear them, they cry out to be carried away to their reward. The cacophony deafens me.” She glared out at the carnage. “Until that poison is sweat from their blood, none of us can safely glean the field.”

Eira fell silent with a sigh and turned back to the melee before them. Their horses were getting restless, and each woman was fidgeting in her saddle, eager to get to work. The battle started to flag, finally, and Brynhildr raised her hand to signal the women to ride. The next hours were a blur of blood, and snow, and the souls of the glorious dead. Eira counted far more dead than wounded, but battles where there were berserkers on the field were always that way. The toxin they ate to make them wild also made them ensure that each man they cleaved was truly dead. Eira made careful note of every man she could sense was still alive, to make her work easier when the dead were finally in Valhalla, and the wounded were free to be healed.

“Reinforcements! Retreat for now!” Bryn’s voice called across the field, and Eira looked up to see a new wave of warriors crossing the field from both sides, with all the Valkyries hemmed in between them. The only path to safety was back into the woods.

She held her hand out to haul one of the dead across her saddle, and from the corner of her eye, saw a pair of berserkers bearing down on her, axes held high. With her free hand, she threw out the barrier spell Loki had taught her. The ground shook, jostling her off the back of Fleygur. She fell to the ground in surprise. She watched as a ripple coursed across the field, knocking down everything in its path. It spread, in a perfect circle, from where she stood beside her horse. The fresh forces toppled, leaving the battlefield empty, save the Valkyries, who were still standing, and staring at Eira in awe. Brynhildr regained herself quickest and ran toward Eira.

“What was that?” She asked as she approached. Eira shook her head.

“I could not tell you. I merely used the barrier spell you insisted I learn.” Eira was as surprised as her friend. She suddenly felt very dizzy, and grabbed both Bryn and the edge of her saddle to steady herself. Bryn looked hard at her, and quickly unclasped the side of her breastplate. The colour flooded back into Eira’s face, and she felt stronger. Bryn’s eyes narrowed, focused on the gap that sprung open between the breastplate and the plate that protected Eira’s back.

“Eira, tell me true. When did you last suffer your courses?” She demanded. Eira shrugged.

“A few weeks ago? I do not recall. We have been so overrun with these idiots wishing to meet us all.” She was dismissive.

“Have you bled since you last saw Thor, Eira? Think!” Bryn snapped. Eira tried to remember the last time she’d been bothered with her cycle. She shook her head, and then stilled, a wave of dizzying realization crashing over her.

“How –“

“Oh, don’t ask how, Eira, you are a healer, you know how!” Bryn interrupted. Eira looked at her friend, fear clouding her eyes.

“But it was only once. It was the first time.” She protested, tears beginning to overflow and trace clean trails through the dirt on her face. Bryn pulled her into her arms, and rocked her.

“It only takes once, Eira, if the time is right.” She murmured as Eira began to sob.

XXX

The Sea of Mist was a welcome reprieve from the icy winds of Midgard. Eira scrubbed her skin until it was pink, and then took to the shore to bask in the sun. Now that Bryn had recognized her condition, she was embarrassed that she had not determined it sooner. Her breasts were fuller, and her belly was beginning to swell, leaving small red lines where it was stretching the skin to accommodate the change. She placed her hand across the gentle bulge in disbelief. And yet she had to believe it. The evidence was there in her exhaustion, her illness, her fatigue. She wondered how Loki had missed it. Perhaps he hadn’t, she thought, remembering the strange way he spoke before he’d departed for Svartalfheim.

Bryn waded to the shore and sat in the grass by Eira, stretching out the let the sun kiss the water away. She looked at the pattern of marks across her friend’s stomach and shook her head.

“Does you skin hurt? It looks painful.”

“No. My breasts hurt. Constantly.”

“How could you have missed this, Eira? You are a healer. You know the body better than anyone I’ve ever encountered. By the Norns, the Midgardians call you a goddess of healing!” Bryn burst.

“We’ve been so taxed. I’ve been so tired. I’ve not had time to think.” Eira admitted, ashamed. 

“What will you do?” Bryn asked.

“What is there to do? I suppose it will be up to Allfather what will come of me. I had not thought of babies, of family. I had just thought that if I fell, maybe I would be released.”

“But can you be released, Eira? You are a goddess now. Your presence is expected on Midgard, by the men and women living there. They pray to you, even I can hear their prayers. Do you truly think the Allfather will release you as a Valkyrie when he knows you will still ride onto the battlefield to care for the wounded?” Bryn’s tone was serious.

“I do not know. I just know that this was not what I had intended.” Eira sighed.

“And yet here we are.” Bryn drew in a deep breath. “In the time since you have committed yourself to this calling, you have grown, and changed, and become a women I care for greatly. I hope you are not offended when I say that I hope the Allfather does not release you. For my own selfish reasons, but also because of the hope you bring to the people of Midgard. I have never seen a people so anxious to achieve Valhalla.”

Eira reached for her tunic and slipped it on, without a word. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair and rummaged through her things for her comb, thinking about how to respond to Brynhildr’s admission. 

“And what shall I do with this babe, when we ride?” She finally asked.

“You will not ride when he is a babe. You cannot ride now until he comes, it is too dangerous. Both for you and for the warriors. You leveled that battleground today, stunned the berserkers into sobriety, and ended a war. When he is old enough, you will find a way.” Bryn determined. Eira felt hopeless.

“But –“

“No, Eira. You may heal, and you may serve in Valhalla, but I will not let you ride.” Her tone was final.

XXX

Eira was more subdued that usual in Valhalla that evening. She went through the motions, and was attentive to her duties, but her thoughts were in Svartalfheim. She wondered when she would see Thor, and how to tell him. She wondered again at how Loki could have missed the signs of her pregnancy. She worried about the Allfather’s reaction. Certainly this hadn’t been in the future he had foreseen for her as a child. She flopped indelicately onto the bench beside her brother to rest her weary feet.

“You are far past your usual fatigue. Are you sure the healers think you healthy?” Jarni asked. Eira laughed bitterly.

“Perfect health, Jarni. I assure you.” She responded, her tone more biting than she’d intended. “I am sorry, brother. I am not myself.”

“Sneak away and get some rest.” Her father recommended from across the table. She smiled at the idea. It had merit. She decided to just ask Bryn for early release instead. Brynhildr was quick to agree and send her on her way.

She stabled Fleygur, and was making her way to the cottage when a figure emerged from the dark. 

“What are you up to that keeps you out so late at night?” Thor’s voice rumbled from where he stood. Eira’s heart leaped and she ran toward him, throwing herself into his arms. He stumbled as she crashed into him, and laughed, wrapping his arms around her.

“How did you know you were in my thoughts this day?” She drank in the sight of him. He smiled and released her.

“Loki told me you have been ill.” He offered. “I needed to check on you myself.”

“It was a cold. The fatigue lingered. But that was weeks ago, that Loki came and saw me.” Eira blurted. She regretted her answer when she saw the dark look cross his handsome features.

“Loki came and saw you?” He demanded, temper flaring. “He said nothing of it to me. He said he had heard from Mother that you had been unwell.”

Eira cringed and knew, instinctively, that now was not the time to announce the babe in her belly.

“Your mother called for him to come and use his magic to see if he could determine what ailed me. He deduced I was in perfect health. Why would he worry you with this now, weeks later?”

“Today was the first I’d seen him since we arrived in Svartalfheim. He has been working with the Dark Elves, I have been working with the Light.” He explained, mollified by her explanation. Eira led them into the courtyard garden, which was just barely illuminated by the moon. She sat, as she always did, on the ledge of the fountain. Thor sat beside her wordlessly. He seemed almost scared to touch her. She took his hand and kissed the palm.

“I have missed you, my love. It seems too long since our last visit.” She murmured. Thor smiled and kissed her forehead.

“And I you. The treaty negotiations take too long. I am anxious to be home. I would –“ He trailed off. Eira leaned against him, and he slipped his arm around her.

“You would?” She prompted.

“I would have more time with you. I miss your sweet kisses.” He stole a kiss, and then rose. “I should return. Father granted me leave to visit briefly, but I must return before the Elves think I’ve abandoned their cause. Heimdall awaits me.”

“Please, do not tell your father that Loki spirited back on your mother’s command. I would not have him suffer the Allfather’s wrath.” Eira rose to walk back to the drive with him, fingers laced in his. Thor pulled her into an embrace and dipped his head to kiss her again. Eira laced her arms behind his neck and drew him close, deepening the kiss. He groaned and pulled away.

“Eira, you tempt a man to distraction.” He kissed her cheek and turned back to his horse.

“Be vigilant. I love you.” She called to him as he started down the drive. He smiled back at her and held his hand up.

“Norns willing, I will be back soon.” He called back, before urging his horse into a gallop. The last of Eira’s stamina failed her, and she barely carried herself to her bed. She fell asleep, discomfited with her inability to share their secret with Thor, and with a niggling worry that something was not right. Her last thought before she drifted off was of their parting and the words he did not say.


	23. Chapter 23

“You are the size of a longship!” Brynhildr laughed and placed a hand on either side of Eira’s ever increasing belly. She leaned down and kissed it and looked back up at her friend. “And you are finally looking healthy. It cannot be much longer now.” 

Eira hugged her friend awkwardly, and shook her head.

“No, still three months. I am ready for him to come though. It is hard to walk, and uncomfortable to sleep, and sitting is a problem, and I am complaining overmuch, aren’t I?” She laughed, rubbing the centre of her belly subconsciously. 

“I’ve never seen so beautiful a woman. Being with child suits you well. I wish that Thor could see how lovely you are right now, carrying his heir.” Bryn linked arms with Eira and led her down the worn path from the garden to the lake.

“Where are we going, Bryn?” Eira asked. 

“We are walking to the lake. It’s a beautiful day, and don’t think I didn’t notice your ankles are the size of wineskins. The lake water will cool your feet and soothe you.” Bryn kept them at a pace slower than Eira was used to, pointing out the wildflowers that were in bloom and asking Eira if they had healing properties.

For her part, Eira didn’t mind ambling along the path slowly. She had grown ungainly and while it felt as though it had come on overnight, she knew the babe was just gradually growing in the normal way. She thought he maybe could sense her thoughts, as his latest trick was to kick whenever her thoughts dwelled on him too long. She let out a soft grunt, and rubbed her belly where the offending foot had landed.

“He is strong, Eira!” Bryn laughed. “I felt that!”

“He likes to kick all night long. I’m growing a wee berserker in there, I fear.” Eira responded with a fond smile at the bulge.

“Has Thor been home to see you? Since –“ Bryn began

“Just the time he came home the day you realized I was with child. It has been three months, with no word. Not from Loki. Neither Thor, nor Odin. I would be fearful, but there has been no call to Svartalfheim for war.”

“Why would you mention Loki first?” Bryn gave her a confused look. Eira responded with an equally perplexed face.

“Whatever do you mean?” She stopped and faced her friend.

“Well, you said you hadn’t heard from Loki. Or Thor or Odin. Why would you wish Loki first?” Bryn demanded.

“Loki has ways of getting home other than the Bifrost. I would have thought he would have snuck home again.”

“How does he travel between realms?” Bryn looked more confused.

“Truly, Bryn, I do not know. I just know when Frigga called for him to care for me, he said he had ways to travel that even Heimdall couldn’t track.” Eira shrugged.

“Does Thor know them too?”

“I would think not, they are likely magical in nature.” Eira concluded. Bryn accepted her answer and linked her arm in Eira’s again, propelling them toward the lake. When they crested the hill and began their descent to the water’s front, she saw the rest of her Valkyrie sisters waiting. She stopped and turned to Brynhildr.

“Why are you all here?” She asked.

“We haven’t all been together in so long, and you are too great with your fecundity to be riding Fleygur out. We decided to bring our afternoon meal to the lake and enjoy some time with our absent sister. We are all to be aunts soon.” Bryn squeezed Eira’s arm. 

It had been too long, Eira decided, with a bit of regret. Had she simply answered her calling from when she had been able, instead of dodging it, she would have had much more time spent with the women who made up the Valkyries, and she regretted the great joy she had lost out on in her pride. In the small amount of time she had been performing her duty, each of the women had become dear to her, and she knew the next months leading into her confinement were going to be even more taxing on her lonely heart.

The afternoon was exactly what Eira needed. She sat on a large, flat rock in the shallows of the lake, and cooled her feet in the cool water while her sisters swam, and splashed, and laughed. Kara brought her a plate with some meat and cheese on it.

“You should eat more, Eira.”

“I am the size of a horse, Kara, I’m eating plenty.”

“That is Thor’s son you carry! He will need more sustenance than you are currently giving him. He will be as mighty as his father, even from birth.” Kara laughed and put the plate on Eira’s knees. Eira couldn’t help but laugh, and accepted the food. 

“It may be Thor’s daughter, Kara. And if it is, I would that she is not so mighty as her father.” Eira smiled. Kara smothered another laugh.

“Or as hairy!” She teased. Eira choked on the piece of cheese she was chewing, and coughed for a few seconds before regaining her composure.

“I would rather she be more pretty as well.”

“Does he know yet?” Kara asked, changing the subject. Eira shook her head.

“No, he has not been home. I suppose I could ask Frigga to send a message, but I would rather tell him myself. A man should not learn he is to be a father by messenger.” Eira sighed. “I had thought they would be back long before now.”

“The peace between the Dark and Light Elves has always been tenuous at best, but after this latest spate of skirmishes, there were bound to be some hard concessions for both sides. That can’t be easy to broker.” Kara resolved. 

“I know. I would that he is home before the babe comes at least.” Eira admitted.

“Will you send for him if the time is drawing near?” Kara pried.

“I would not compromise the peace. Both he and Loki have said the Elves are quick to offend, and would be provoked by putting a single Asgardian above the importance of their peace accord.” Eira explained.

“So you have seen Loki as well?” Kara raised an eyebrow.

“He came to assess my health as the behest of his mother. You make it sound so illicit!” Eira laughed.

“Eira, it is no secret how he loves you.” Kara’s statement was so plain, Eira started in confusion.

“What do you speak of? Loki does not love me. We are friends, you read too much where there is nothing.” She protested.

“In all the years I have known of Loki, I have never known him to do anything his father asks without some motivation for his own gain. But what does he gain by helping you to harness your magic? There is nothing, but time spent with you.” Kara shook her head. “No, he loves you, Eira. I have seen how he looks on you. I know that look.”

“Kara, no. You are mistaken. If Loki feels anything for me, he feels the kinship of a brother.” Eira denied. Kara rolled her eyes and stood, leveraging herself with Eira’s knee.

“You keep telling yourself that, litla systir. But it won’t make it true.” She patted Eira’s knee and waded back to shore for more mead.

XXX

Eira was curled in her chair by the hearth fire, working fine stitches into a linen blanket for the baby. She was haunted by Kara’s words, and could not sleep. Her eyes ached from the strain of sewing by the low firelight, but she could not find enough comfort to sleep. Kara’s word haunted her, and she kept replaying every conversation and interaction she had with Loki over the course of their friendship. She was able to see why her friend would be mistaken about his feelings, as he was always familiar with her, but she could not see love where Kara insisted it was there. Eira worried the idea until her head drooped into her chest and her sewing fell to the floor, and she finally slept. 

She dreamed of the night she spent with Thor, but instead of Thor’s broad, rough warriors hands on her skin, it was Loki’s long, elegant fingers that kneaded her flesh. Where Thor’s blonde waves tickled her skin, it was strands of Loki’s jet hair that swept across her. Rather than Thor’s heated kisses, it was Loki’s cool ardor trailing across her lips, pulling her into his arms. The spicy sweetness of licorice swept across her in gentle waves. She started awake, knocking her cup off the arm of her chair with a crash. Her heart was racing and she silently cursed Kara. 

After the collected the broken shards of pottery off the floor, Eira padded down to her bed. As she pulled the covers over her, the tang of licorice remained on her tongue and she slipped back into a troubled sleep.

XXX

Asgard was almost always temperate and mild. There were truly no seasons in the Realm Eternal, just summer. Eira was finding the usually gentle summer heat too warm, and in addition to the poor sleep she’d had, she was feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed by the beautiful day. Recalling how wonderful the lake had felt on her feet, she made her way across the hill and down to the water. She quickly stripped down to her shift and waded into the cool depths, finding immediate relief. She allowed herself to float on her back, eyes shut against the bright morning sun.

Eira stayed in the water until she was cold, and her toes began to tingle. She laid out on the flat rock in the shallows and let the sun warm her, arm cast across her eyes. When she got too hot again, she slid back into the water and floated. She kept moving from the water to the rock and back to the water as the sun crossed the sky, not marking the passing of time, just marking her comfort and relief from the heat that was so oppressive to her. 

She was floating in the water when a shadow cast across her, throwing darkness across her eyelids. She held a hand up to her forehead and opened her eyes, expecting a cloud, or maybe a bird drowsing in the sky. Loki looked down on her, from just a few steps away in the water, a wry smirk etched on his handsome face. Eira shrieked and sat up, crossing her arms across her thin, wet shift.

“What are you doing here?” She gasped. He laughed and stepped over to the flat rock Eira had been using to bask upon, sitting down with his legs outstretched, crossing them at the ankles. 

“I came to check on your health. Thor gave me quite a scolding you know, after he visited you.” He scolded with a smile.

“Did you know?” Eira demanded. Loki’s eyes widened just enough to let Eira know he did. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to believe it to be true.” He admitted. Eira screwed up her head in confusion.

“Why not?” She asked. Loki rolled his eyes.

“Was it not the first time? Do you think a man, any man, truly intends to have his seed bear fruit the first time he visits a garden? You are in your prime, Eira, but even a woman in her prime is not always so fertile. I never would have expected this to happen.” He sounded anxious and worried.

“What bothers you so, Loki?” Eira reached out to place her hand on his, but he recoiled.

“My brother is a fool.” Loki snapped. “He realizes not what he has.”

Eira shook her head, thinking of Kara’s words the previous day. She looked at him carefully, taking in his slim form. He was leaning back on his hands, his long legs stretched before him, pants turned up at the ankles, and feet bare. He’d dropped his coat beside his boots on the shore, and his shirt was unpinned at the neck, allowing it to fall open to mid-chest, framing the contours of the muscles of his chest. He’d rolled his sleeves up as well, leaving him looking truly like a man about his leisure. There was no denying he was handsome, Eira had always thought so, but it was such a different type of appeal than his brother had that it was hard to believe they were related. With so many differences between them, Eira couldn’t imagine that the brothers would share anything, let alone an affection for her. He caught her staring and arched an eyebrow in question. 

“Loki, if I ask you a question, will you vow to answer me with honesty?” Eira asked. Loki looked a little taken aback, but nodded.

“Of course, Eira.”

“Remember to whom you speak, trickster. I would have you swear.” She teased. Loki laughed and nodded again.

“I solemnly swear that I will answer your next question with truth and honesty as befits a son of Odin.” He placed his hand on his chest, a laugh in his tone.

“Do you love me?” She blurted. Loki’s eyes widened and he looked as though she’d hit him. “I just, people keep saying you do. I would know.” Eira felt herself flushing, and had to stop herself from rambling, or retracting the question. Loki just stared at her, saying nothing. She met his eyes and would not look away, despite the discomfort she felt. Loki sat up, and drew in a deep breath.

“I have already told you that I hold you in the same regard as you hold me. Does that not make you my dearest friend?” He asked. Eira quirked her eyebrow.

“Don’t speak in riddles, Loki.” She chastised. He bit his lip.

“Yes. I love you.” He admitted. “You are my most cherished companion. I can think of no one I am closer to, spare my brother.” 

“But you do not love me the way Thor loves me?” She confirmed. Eira could feel tears prickling at the back of her eyes, and couldn’t understand why.

“Thor feels very differently about you than I do.” Loki agreed carefully. Eira let out a breath of relief, and realized she was shivering.

“Move over, you are on my warming rock.” She demanded, breaking the somber mood. He laughed and crossed his legs, leaving enough room for Eira to climb up and warm herself. Loki caught his breath as she maneuvered her awkward form into a comfortable position while trying to maintain some modesty. Eira caught him staring and blushed, adjusting her shift for more coverage. He placed a hand on hers to still her.

“You look magnificent, Eira.” Loki complimented her. She laughed.

“Yes, my impersonation of a whale grows more realistic with every day.” She agreed.

“You have grown more beautiful than I could have imagined. Any man would be proud to see you carry his child.” He squeezed her hand. They sat together in silence for a few minutes.

“I should be gone before it is noted that I am absent. I wanted to check on you.” Loki turned and dipped his feet back in the water to rise.

“Loki, as much as I feel Thor should know that I am with child, I think it important that it come from me.” She warned him. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, dangerously close to her mouth. He placed his hand on her belly and looked down at her.

“I have no intention of informing anyone I was here, Eira. I will not betray your secrets. Any of them.” He promised. He waded to the shore and pulled his boots on before picking up his coat and disappearing over the hill.


	24. Chapter 24

A forceful banging on the door of the cottage brought Eira out of the woolgathering she’d been indulging in from her place curled up in the chair beside the fire. Halla was busy with a sick child, and would not be able to greet whoever was at the door. Eira pulled herself to her feet with great effort, and lumbered toward the door. She opened it, and stepped back, shocked. It was the Allfather, and he looked furious.

“I have never desired my ravens to be wrong more than I have in this, Eira.” He boomed, pushing past her into the house. Eira was too terrified to say anything. She followed him meekly back to the hearth fire. He turned and faced her, the full power of his displeasure greeting her. He was broad, but seemed broader, and stiff with rage. His good eye was narrow with anger. Eira wished she could run, leave, hide somewhere, but she knew there was nowhere in the nine realms that she could escape Huginn and Muninn.

“I have nothing to offer, Allfather.” Eira dipped her head and waited for the storm she knew was coming.

“What were you thinking? That you would be able to defy me and not have a consequence? That you would be able to hide the babe?”

“No, Allfather. I had not thought that one encounter would result in a babe.” Eira admitted.

“Any encounter can result in a babe, you stupid, silly girl!” He roared. Eira shrank away from him, arms protectively covering her belly.

“It was the very first time I’d ever made love with a man! It happened once! It was never my intention to get with child, but you are not going to make me apologize for something that was wrought out of love! This is your fault!” Eira lost her temper, and stood as straight as she could. She stared at Odin defiantly.

“My fault? I sought to protect you from this!” He slammed the butt of Gungnir into the floor in emphasis.

“And had you not sought to meddle in the path the Norns had woven for me, you would not have driven me into your son’s arms!” Eira threw her sewing on the floor in response. “You did this. Your refusal to allow whatever you saw in my future to happen caused this. Would I have still fallen in love with him? I imagine so. Would this babe be such a tragedy? No, he would have come to parents who were already wed, not to a mother who has no idea what to do with him, and a father who has yet to be told he is one. But you held the cards in this, Allfather. You have kept us apart, and you bear the responsibility for the manner in which this child was got!” 

Eira slumped back into her chair, spent, and felt tears dripping down her cheeks.

“I will not release you.” His tone was cold.

“I suspected you would not see to reason.” Eira snapped, dashing away her tears with the back of her hand.

“You brought this upon yourself, child! You went out and healed, and made yourself a goddess.” Odin spoke slowly as though he were dealing with a simpleton, which just angered Eira more.

“I am not dull, Allfather, please do not address me as though I am. If there is no changing what the Norns have determined, then I would have never escaped that fate either.” Eira felt defeated, and yet still boiled with rage. The babe kicked in protest, causing her to double over with surprise. The Allfather did not notice her discomfort.

“I cannot release you, and I remain undecided about the desired betrothal to Thor. I doubt my son would be happy to have his wife slipping away at all hours to see to the dead.” Odin let out a great sigh.

“Have you considered that your son may defy you when he discovers he is to be a father?” Eira countered.

“I have no doubt that would be the case with my other son, Eira, but Thor is bound by his honour, and is sworn to serve me, and he takes those oaths seriously. How have you been fulfilling your duty these past months?” Odin demanded.

“Brynhildr has kept me to serving in Valhalla, and tending to some of the needs at Valkyrjahús. In the past weeks, however, she has excused me from all duties. There are but weeks before the babe will come.” Eira answered. “I did as I was ordered by you, Allfather. I resumed my duties and have never shirked them since.”

“Yes. I had hoped to spare you what I’d foreseen, but now I fear that will not be so.” Odin appeared older and exhausted with the statement, and for one moment, Eira feared he would fall into the Odinsleep on her floor. 

“Will you not tell me now what you saw all those years ago, Allfather?” Eira asked, her voice soft.

“No. You should not know your destiny, lest you try to alter it as I have.” He shook his head, an unfamiliar look of guilt crossing his face.

“I will not apologize for loving your son, Allfather.” Eira stood, and spoke firmly. Odin nodded.

“I expect no less from his child’s mother.” He agreed.

“And now that your fury is spent, I expect a doting grandfather. There will be no punishment heaped on my child because of his parents.” Eira met his eye unwaveringly.

“The child is innocent. I am no monster.” He barked. “What I still do not understand, Eira, is how this could have happened. Thor is not a complex man. When he has desired to take leave of the negotiations, he has sought my permission. But none of those requests have come that could align with your breeding. Why would he deceive me thus? For a woman?” The questions were obviously not intended to Eira to answer, but she could not help herself.

“Perhaps you left him no choice.” She proposed.

“But my obedient son? Perhaps you are correct.” Odin turned toward the door. “My ravens will be watching for the babe’s safe arrival. Send them should you need for anything.”

“Allfather, before you go.” Eira started. “Thor does not know. I would tell him myself, and had hoped he would visit long before now. Please. He should hear he is a father from his babe’s mother.”

“I have much to think on, Eira, and will not make you promises.” Odin departed into the inky darkness of the night, leaving naught but the shrieks of his ravens behind.

XXX

Confinement to the house had left her restless, and because Halla was treating an illness that she was uncertain of the virulence, Eira decided to make her way to the city market for some much needed exercise. She’d sent a message to Brynhildr to see if her friend was free to join her, and Bryn had arrived with Kara and Hrist in tow before she had even managed to ready herself.

“Now, how are we to get you to market. Surely you don’t mean to ride Fleygur?” Kara teased her. “He would collapse from the size of you.”

“Fleygur can carry me and an Asgardian warrior in full armour. Help me to mount him.” Eira laughed. Her friends helped her to heave herself onto the horse’s back, sitting with both legs on the one side on the horse’s bare back. Fleygur grunted under her weight. 

“You traitorous beast!” Eira exclaimed.

The women set off for the market that set up outside the gates of the palace, making slow time as they gossiped and laughed. They stabled their horses for the afternoon at the public groom, and made their way into the marketplace, splitting apart to see to their needs with a promise to meet back in time to share a meal on the grass of the common. Eira stopped every few stalls to rest and admire the wares. She could feel the questioning eyes of the people browsing the stalls on her immense belly and was glad that so few of them knew her.

At the cheese merchant, she purchased a small chunk of cheese and then proceeded to find a small loaf of bread. She spoke to the meat vendor about Halla’s usual order, and then found a sunny spot on the grass. She settled herself in a way also designed to minimize how large she looked, and once she was settled and saw how little of her belly was out for public viewing, she felt more comfortable. There’d been too many eyes on her already.

She was too hungry to wait on her friends, and dug into her makeshift meal alone. She looked across the market and saw her friends making short work of their market lists and smiled, savouring the rich flavour of the creamy cheese she’d purchased.

“An apple would bring out the flavour magnificently. That’s Hrogn’s cheese, is it not?” Fandral’s voice startled her. He sat down beside her and held out an apple. She smiled and took it, immediately setting to slicing it off the core.

“I thought you were in Svartalfheim?” Eira asked.

“No, Sif, Volstagg, Hogun and myself were sent home some time ago. I’ve been meaning to ride out to see you, but have been preoccupied with romantic pursuits.” Fandral blushed at his excuse. “And how is my favourite Valkyrie? You look quite robust.”

Eira couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you saying I’ve gone to fat, Fandral?” She chuckled. He looked embarrassed and stared at a spot she was sure was far above her head, rather than meet her gaze.

“Not at all, Eira. You’re just looking hale.” He stammered.

“I look like a woman about to burst with child, you fool.” She laughed, and shoved his shoulder in mock rage. Fandral’s gaze snapped down from wherever it had been to look at her. He took in her rounded face, fuller bust and when she leaned back a little to allow him, the immense spread of the babe within her, with shock.

“But how –“

“Surely you know how babies are made, Fandral.” She laughed.

“Thor has not said a word.”

“Thor does not yet know. He has been gone since the night I conceived.” Eira admitted.

“And you’ve not sent word?”

“I had rather hoped he would be home before I had gone this far. Now it seems too late.” She confessed.

“But he would be thrilled!” Fandral exclaimed. “I would be, were I him!”

“And so he shall be, when he comes come from Svartalfheim.” Eira smiled. “The Allfather is aware, Fandral, and will do as he sees fit.” Her words were a gentle warning to her friend. He nodded.

“Your time must be soon?” He asked.

“So now that you have seen the grandness of my belly, you truly see how immense I am?” She teased. He shook his head and flushed. “Tis not long now. Some six weeks. A first babe can sometimes come late.” 

Brynhildr approached and sat on the opposite side of Eira, nodding politely to Fandral. Fandral smiled flirtatiously back and Bryn rolled her eyes and began to eat without a word to either of them. Kara and Hrist joined them and sat facing the others. Kara smiled at Fandral after looking him over appreciatively.

“Fandral, you’re quite a nice picture when you are clean and do not stink of the wars.” She winked at him. Fandral grinned at the pretty blonde and moved a little closer to her. Hrist snorted in amusement and rolled her eyes.

“I could say the same of you, Kara, but it would be a lie. You are beautiful regardless of your state.” He took her hand and kissed it, which set off a wave of laughter amongst the women.

“You fight a losing battle, warrior. Kara will devour you and spit out your bones.” Hrist warned him. Bryn laughed even harder.

“Tis true. The men in Valhalla quake with both lust and fear. Be careful with whom you flirt, Fandral.” She cautioned. Fandral looked to Eira.

“Tell me, Eira, for you I trust above all these ladies. Will she truly be the end of me?” Fandral’s eyes danced with merriment. Eira nodded somberly.

“She is known to be insatiable, Fandral. You may well have met your match, should you pursue her.” She bit her lip to try to stop herself from smiling but it was no help. Fandral looked back to Kara, smitten.

“Indeed? I may have to test my luck.” He met her gaze appraisingly. Kara looked to the other Valkyries and looked back at him, as though accepting the challenge.

“Well, you can test your luck another time, loverboy. We have troops to train.” Sif appeared, seemingly from nowhere. She looked around the circle of women, her eyes stopping at Eira.

“Sif, you look well.” Eira offered. Sif’s eyebrows rose.

“Goodness, Eira, you look about to burst. Who put that babe in your womb?” She gaped. Fandral’s brows furrowed as he rose to his feet.

“Sif!” His voice was sharp. “Be mindful of your mouth. She carries an heir of Asgard.” He grabbed Sif’s arm and dragged her toward the training grounds squabbling with one another the whole way.


	25. Chapter 25

Eira sat near the hearth fire sewing, as had become her habit. She was finding it more and more difficult to find a comfortable position, and knew the babe would be arriving soon. When she’d seen the transition in the way she was carrying, Halla assured her it would not be long.

“A rider on the drive, Eira.” Halla glanced out the window. Eira pulled herself to her feet. It took great effort, and she braced her belly with her hand. She made her way to the door, and opened it as Thor dismounted. He looked angry as he strode toward her.

“It is true then. You are with child.” He glared at her belly as though it was a betrayal.

“Your son.” Eira spoke softly, and ran a hand along the side of her belly. His eyes met her, dark with rage.

“This is no child of mine.” He spoke through clenched teeth. Eira felt a stab in her heart and gasped. Without thinking she slapped him. With all her strength behind it, his head snapped to one side. He squared his jaw and faced her again, glaring all the while.

“How could you say such a thing? You know you are the only man I have ever lain with. You held me when I wept.” Eira cried, tears rising to her eyes.

“I know no such thing. I did not take your maidenhood.” He snarled.

“Then who, Thor? Have you a twin you’ve never mentioned?” Eira challenged, her ire rising.

“You know my only brother is Loki.” He spat in response. 

“Well he hardly looks like you! What a fool I have been! I’d been warned you cared not for me, Thor, but I did not take you for the type of cad who would defile a virgin and then deny the fruit of his loins!” Eira fought back tears, and shoved at the prince. In any other circumstance, she would have feared a charge of treason, but she cared not now. She would happily do worse.

“I told you I was content to wait! I told you we could move on your time. And at the first opportunity, you bedded another. And try to cast his seed as my own?” Thor loomed over her, trying to be intimidating. Eira rose to her full height, as difficult as it was. She met his glare unflinchingly.

“There is no other. I told you once I would only lay with the man I loved. You are the only man I have ever loved. How can you not remember our joining? You met me on Midgard, after a battle, we made love under a blanket of stars. You held me in your arms, and whispered your love. Told me the wait had earned your heart.” Eira spat the words at him, “Am I one of so many you have treated so that you would not remember?” The tears she had been restraining spilled over her lashes. Thor shook his head.

“This is madness! Why would I tarry on Midgard when I have comfortable, private quarters in the palace, where we could have been equally alone? I would say you had a dream but the weight of your womb denies that it was a woman’s whimsy.” Thor shook his head. His chest was heaving with the heavy breaths he was taking in a failed attempt to keep his calm. 

“You said you thought more of me than to take me in a bed so many others had shared. That I was worth more than your gilded bed!” Eira drew in her breath sharply, remembering the only other person who had ever used that term. “Norns have mercy. What have I done?” Her legs gave out and she collapsed to the ground. Thor dropped to his knees, his concern immediate.

“Does the babe come?” He held a hand across her belly. Eira swatted it away, unwilling to accept his transition from raging tyrant to concerned lover.

“Loki.” She breathed, “Loki did this to me.” She felt lightheaded and turned her head away from Thor, retching on the ground beside her. Thor pushed away from her, his rage returned.

“My own brother? You betrayed me with my own blood?” Thor cried. “How could you?”

“I did not know. I swear to you!” Eira sobbed, tears renewed, “He looked just like you. Even the scar I gave you was there!” She dropped her head into her hands and sobbed.

“You speak in riddles, woman. You did not give me that scar, you healed me when I was wounded.” Thor snapped, shaking his head.

“Have you truly been so blind? The day on the battlefield! You attacked a Valkyrie, not knowing she was tending the dead, thinking she was a shieldmaiden for the enemy. She stabbed you with her spear.” Eira took his face in her hands and spoke clearly.

“You healed me, but you did not give me that scar.” Thor repeated, holding his hand across his hip, rubbing the place where the wound had been.

“You beautiful idiot. I am the Valkyrie who ran you through.” Eira’s tears started anew. Thor’s eyes widened.

“You are the redheaded Valkyrie?” He exclaimed. “Then why would you allow me to court you? Why would you lead me to love you? Did you seek to abandon your calling? Is that all I was?” He looked as hurt as Eira felt.

“No, Thor. As much as I have found my calling distasteful in the past, when you began pursuing me, I had found peace with it. I tried to keep my duty foremost. But you kept meeting me, and wooing me. I could not help myself.” Her shoulders shook with the sobs that racked her. “Please, Thor, I love you.”

Thor pulled her into his arms, his own tears freely flowing.

“We have both been betrayed.” He held her while they cried, sitting in the dust of the drive. A sharp stab of pain tightened across Eira’s midsection and she gasped, and held her belly. Another jabbing pain and suddenly she was in a pool of wet. Thor scrambled to his feet, pants dark where the fluid had reached him.

“Now the babe comes, Thor. Help me inside, and get my mother.” She held out her hands and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He lifted her as though she weighed nothing, and carried her into her bedroom, yelling for Halla. Thor knelt at the bedside, smoothing Eira’s hair from her face as she flinched from the contractions.

“A father should not see this, Your Highness.” Halla suggested. Thor met her eyes dispassionately.

“Then I will stay. I am not the father.” He looked back to Eira. Halla’s deep intake of breath brought Eira from her agony.

“It is a long story, Mother” She gasped and clutched her belly, “And it reeks of Loki’s betrayal. Now is not the time.” 

“Tell me what I must do, Halla.” Thor demanded. Halla laid out her instruments quickly, and pursed her lips.

“Climb in behind her, and hold her sitting. The babe will come easier that way.” She ordered. Thor slipped into the bed beside Eira, and pulled her into his lap. He pulled himself up against the wall, and slid her into his arms. Eira cried out as another contraction gripped her.

XXX

“He is the image of my brother.” Thor held the baby in his arms, “All rage and anger.” The baby shrieked and waved tiny fists in the air. Thor passed him to Eira, who brought him to breast. He settled immediately as he began to suckle.

“He is beautiful.” Eira smoothed his wrinkled little brow, overcome with love. A tear slid down her face, “He should be yours.” 

Thor looked toward the door, hearing footfalls in the hall. Odin turned into the room, Loki a step behind him, his eyes immediately seeking Eira. Eira scrambled to cover herself and the baby. 

“Your Majesty, you’ll excuse me if I don’t rise.” She gasped. Odin nodded.

“I have come to see my grandson.” He stated.

“He is eating, Father.” Thor warned. 

“I can wait.” Odin folded his arms across his chest.

“There is the matter of parentage that must be discussed.” Loki declared. To his credit, Eira could see the discomfort written across his fine features. Thor’s face twisted in rage and he rose, clenching his fists.

“Now is not the time, brother.” He snarled. Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Now is the time, brother,” Loki snapped back, “That child has bound me to the Valkyrie.”

“No! You deceived me!” Eira protested. 

“That was never my intention.” Loki’s words were filled with pain.

“How could it not be?” Eira demanded. “You seduced me in your brother’s form!”

The room erupted in angry words, getting louder and louder until Odin pounded Gungnir on the floor. They all silenced.

“Loki came to me and told me of this betrayal he orchestrated. We have spoken long about it. Eira, can you honestly say you feel nothing for my youngest son?” Odin demanded. Eira blushed.

“Loki has been my dearest friend. He has helped me bridle some of my power, has kept my secrets. I would be worse than a liar if I said I did not hold a fondness in my heart for him.” She admitted. 

“No!” Thor cried. The look of betrayal and devastation on his face was more than Eira could bear. She took Thor’s hand.

“I did not say I love him, Thor.” Her words were gentle.

“But you must, Eira. Magic cannot obscure all things, and there would have been some indication of his identity that Loki could not obscure. You would have had to willfully ignore the signs. Some part of you must love him, to not see through his illusion immediately.” Odin explained.

“As my friend, Allfather, nothing more.” She protested. She glanced at Loki, who stood near the door, looking tormented. He looked away, unable to meet her gaze, when her eyes sought his out.

“As much as it pains me, Eira, you are bound to Loki now.” Odin decreed, regret reaching deep into his eye.

“No! No!” She objected, tears starting again. “No! I love him not! I love your other son, Allfather, please! Have mercy!” 

Odin laid his hand on Thor’s shoulder and shook his head.

“This is what I sought to prevent by naming you a Valkyrie. This betrayal that will tear my sons apart was written in the stars before you were born. Come, Thor. Your brother needs to make things right with his wife.” 

“Allfather, please, I beg you. You changed my destiny once, do so again. Bond me to Thor instead!” Eira sobbed, reaching to keep ahold of Thor’s hand as he rose. Their fingertips trailed apart as Odin led him from the room.

“That is what would destroy them completely, Eira.” Odin placed an arm around Thor and led him from the room. Thor’s shoulders were slumped and he sighed heavily. He stopped to glare at Loki when they met at the door.

“When you betray her again, I will be there to pick up the pieces.” He promised. Eira’s heart tightened and she looked down at her beautiful son to avoid seeing the man she loved leave her. She didn’t hear Loki cross the room to sit beside her. He reached out to touch the baby’s head, and Eira smacked his hand.

“Do not touch us.”

“I know you will not believe me, but this was not my intention. I meant every word I have ever said to you.” Loki began.

“You are right. I cannot believe the god of lies.” Eira refused to look at him.

“I have loved you since the moment I saw you grieving your brother, Eira. Every stolen moment I’ve had with you, my love grew. When I learned you were a Valkyrie, I tried to cast off my feelings. When I saw how taken you were with my brother, I fought how I felt with every fibre of my being.” Loki’s voice was filled with the same pain she felt. His hands bunched in the blanket beside her.

“And yet you took me anyhow.” She accused.

“I could not fight my heart any longer. Eira, I just wanted –“ He trailed off. “I was a fool. I knew you would not have me, and I was a fool. I can give you a thousand stories for why. The truth was I love you. I wanted to be with you. I did not realize Thor had been so patient with you, and thought you had long been bedded. It was too late to turn back when I realized, and I will not lie to you. I did not want to stop. I wanted to be your first lover, even cloaked in my brother’s form. I know that makes me a coward. I deserve your enmity, but I beg your grace, your absolution. Odin has blessed us. The Norns chose us to be together. We cannot fight against what was predestined before either of us were brought into this world.” Loki tried to take her hand in his, but she pulled it away.

“Did the Norns tell your father if I would ever love you in return?” Eira asked.

“I do not believe he knows that.” Loki answered honestly. The words stung.

“Then perhaps our destiny is to be miserable. I want not to see you, Loki. Leave my home.” Eira pointed at the door. Loki nodded, and walked to it. He stopped before leaving and turned to face her.

“Eira, I will be patient with you, for a time. But you are my bonded wife, and you will act as such. I will not have my son raised away from me.” He threatened. Eira squared her jaw.

“Go to Hel, Loki.”


	26. Chapter 26

“He is the most beautiful and perfect little babe I’ve ever seen, Eira.” Bryn held the baby in her arms, cooing at him, and tickling his pointy little chin. Eira could feel tears stinging the back of her nose and nodded.

“He is perfection. From his fingers to his toes and everywhere in between.” Kara added, stroking a finger across the fine dusting of dark hair on his head. The baby wrinkled his face in distaste and let out a mewling cry. Brynhildr passed him back to Eira so she could feed him.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” She asked. Eira shook her head.

“I am partial to Leif.” She offered. “But it will depend on his father.”

“That seems a strange name, considering your sorrows, Eira.” Bryn questioned. Eira shook her head again.

“No, he is my son, he is my heir.” Eira smiled at his tiny body tucked against hers as he fed.

“Should we help Loki meet Valhalla, Eira?” Kara offered. The bright smile she wore was a stark contrast to the anger Eira knew was hidden deep in her.

“Kara, no. The Allfather would not stand for that, and you know it.” Eira paled. “And you speak of my husband.”

“He is not your husband by honest means. And you’ve not been wed; you’ve been bonded by the Allfather. We shouldn’t even call him that. I feel responsible, Eira. Had I not encouraged you to pursue a bedding, this would never have happened. I feel I must do something to make it right. Tell me what to do, Eira.” Kara implored, pacing the room.

“Tis not your fault, Kara. Had I been dutiful, this would not have happened. Had I listened when the Allfather told me to avoid Thor, it would not have happened. But it has, and my son is beautiful, and that is all that matters.” Eira’s voice was calm and settled Kara momentarily.

“I will not see him, Eira.” Bryn promised. “I will not see him on the field. I will not cart his carcass to Valhalla when his life is spent.”

“Do not say things you can not be certain of, Bryn. He has a silver tongue, and would likely convince you in the end.” Eira laughed.

“How can you see humour at all, sister?” Bryn asked.

“Because I love my son. And that means that I must go on living. I must heal my heart, and find joy in my new world. My son deserves that in his life.” Eira explained. Halla leaned into the house and interrupted.

“There is a rider approaching. It looks to be Loki.” She informed the women. Bryn and Kara rose.

“We should be off. I don’t trust either of us to not assist Loki to the afterlife right now, sister.” Bryn leaned down and kissed Eira’s forehead, and stroked the baby’s head again before leading Kara from the house. Eira rose from her seat and laid the babe in his basket. She carried him out to the garden and settled herself on the grass beside him, to await their next visitor.

Loki strode into the garden with purpose, but once he saw Eira and the baby, he slowed, and his shoulders softened. He looked lost, and by instinct Eira wanted to reach out and comfort him. She clasped her hands in her lap and looked away from him. He took a few more steps forward, and knelt down to look at the baby. He reached toward the basket tentatively, his eyes on Eira, and when she did not respond he seated himself beside it, and gently lifted the baby into his arms. Eira squared her jaw and forced herself to look at him.

The hard look Loki almost always wore was gone, and had been replaced by one of wonder. He unwrapped the blanket around the baby and inspected the tiny hands, and feet. He ran a thumb across the babe’s belly, traced his cheek with his fingertips. He brought the small bundle close to his chest and tipped his head down to smell the top of his head. Eira fought back tears, not wanting to feel anything close to empathy with Loki.

“He is more beautiful than anything I have ever seen.” Loki’s voice broke, and Eira saw a tear snake down his cheek. She closed her eyes and bit her lip against the crashing wave of emotion that was threatening to drown her.

“He needs a name.” Eira didn’t trust herself to say anything else.

“Surely you must have something that you like.” Loki deferred. 

“I am fond of Leif.” She managed.

“Leif Lokisson. It is a strong name.” He agreed, and kissed the top of the baby’s head.

“Then you agree?” Eira wanted confirmation.

“I do.” Loki nodded. He bundled Leif back into his blanket and laid him back in his basket. As soon as his hands left his son’s side, the baby started to fuss. Loki looked at Eira in confusion, and back to the basket.

“He likes being held.” Eira reached in to pick Leif up at the same time that Loki did, their hands brushing. Loki pulled away, contrite.

“Of course, a mother should –“ He started. Eira handed him back to Loki, settling Leif in his arms comfortably.

“As should a father, Loki.” She interrupted. “Will you stay long? How often do you plan on coming to see him?”

Loki looked up sharply, the familiar furrow returning to his brow. He pursed his lips.

“We must discuss removing you to the palace.” He stated. Eira’s eyebrows rose in challenge.

“I have no intention of living in the palace.”

“If you intend remaining with your son, you will.”

“You cannot hold him ransom, Loki. He is my son. Mine. Before he had a father to acknowledge him, he was mine, and he will always be mine.” Eira snapped, and carefully took Leif back into her own arms.

“And you are now mine, Eira. You and Leif. You belong to me, you are my wife and he is my son too. If you will not come willingly, I will have my father ensure you come.” Loki responded, his cheeks flushing.

“And your father will become the most unpopular king to have ever reigned, in any realm.” Eira spat. “No one is going to turn their back on a woman as wronged as I have been. Do you not understand what you have done? Not only did you destroy anything your brother and I had, but you took me, against my will.”

“I would never touch a woman without her consent!” Loki protested.

“You didn’t have my consent!” Eira exclaimed. “You came to me in your brother’s form. He had my consent. You did not!” 

Eira fixed Loki with a defiant glare, challenging him to continue arguing with her. Leif began to cry, disturbed by the angry voices above him, or the tension in his mother’s arms. Eira looked away, breaking the tension. She rocked Leif gently, cooing softly at him. Loki sat, unmoving, staring into the basket that held Leif’s blankets.

“I had not thought of it that way, Eira.” He finally said, his voice barely audible. “I have been worse than evil, if that is possible.”

“You had so long to confess, Loki. You could have told me.” Eira lamented. “If you loved me at all –“

“Eira, everything I’ve ever done has been for love of you. I’ve been stupid, foolish, cruel, all for love of you. I’ve risked everything, and have lost my most cherished friend, all for love of you. I am deserving of nothing, and am less than a man, but every step along that path was taken for love of you.” Loki’s voice cracked and reached to touch her face, and stopped, dropping his hand. “I have become a rapist, a liar and a brute.”

Eira’s heart ached, hearing the pain in Loki’s words, and she found herself torn between hating him and wanting to comfort him.

“Why couldn’t you have just told me?” Eira blurted. Loki looked up at her. The raw anguish on his face was almost more than she could bear. He closed his eyes, sighed and looked away.

“I tried.”

“Really, when?” She pushed.

“I kissed you, did I not?” He retorted.

“You blamed that on my feelings for Thor. You said my affection for him caused my magic to make you lustful.” Eira scoffed.

“I came and taught you.” Loki became defensive.

“At your father’s behest!” Eira rolled her eyes.

“Do you know how many times in my life I have ever won, when pitted against my brother? Not once. How could I ever have won you, without deceit?” Loki snapped.

“With honesty. You could have wooed me with honesty. The night – that night, that wasn’t the first time you’d cloaked yourself as him, was it?” Eira prompted. Loki’s shoulders slumped.

“No, I had –“

“I do not need details, Loki. I’ve been doing a great deal of consideration about it.” Eira interrupted. She placed Leif back in his basket, sleeping, and moved away a little so her voice would not disturb him. Loki followed, with a backward glance at his son.

“About the palace, Eira –“ Loki began. Eira set her jaw and glared at him.

“It is back to this?”

“Please, just hear my words.” Loki held up his hands in surrender. “My mother suggested it. As a way to ensure I did not mistreat you again. As I’m sure you are aware, we are not yet wed. The ceremony is nothing, it is the Allfather’s word that seals it, and we already have that, but Mother, she will not allow the wedding to proceed until she is assured you will be –“ He trailed off.

“I will be what?”

“Content.” He breathed. “Not happy, necessarily, Eira, but not destroyed either.”

“How lovely of Frigga to think of my not happiness.” Eira’s words dripped sarcasm. Loki looked back down to the ground in resignation. He took a deep breath, and rolled his shoulders back, squaring them and meeting her gaze from his full, proud height. There was hardness in his eyes that she’d not seen before. The muscle in his jaw ticked in annoyance.

“You forget your place. You speak of the royal family of Asgard. I have been patient enough. You can come if you so choose. But I will be back for my son soon enough.” He enunciated each word coldly. Eira scrambled to her feet and stood between Loki and Leif.

“You will have to pry him from my cold, dead hands.” She spat. “You have not been patient. He is barely a week old. You claim to love me, Loki. Prove it. Prove it by respecting my broken heart and honouring my fears. You forget, too. You forget that I am a Valkyrie, called by your own father. You can spill my blood, you can break my spirit. You cannot, however, kill me. I will live long after your bones have been consigned to a floating pyre. And if you cannot respect me, I will teach your son exactly the animal his father is.”

She drew up to her full height, nearly eye to eye with Loki. She thrust her chin out, her jaw in the same stubborn set that his was. With her hands on her hips, Eira looked every bit the Valkyrie she was. She knew she was imposing, and she knew that Loki was well aware of her abilities. She expected him to back down; she challenged him to continue his fight. 

Loki rose and stepped toward her, his eyebrow quirked mockingly. He stepped closer yet, invading her personal space. Eira stood her ground and did not even shift her weight to gain purchase. She glared at Loki in defiance, craning her neck as he stepped so close that their chests touched. She placed a hand on the centre of his chest in warning.

“Eira.” His voice was a seductive whisper. Eira started, but did not step away. She narrowed her eyes in confusion as his hand trailed down her arm, leaving a trail of awareness where he’d touched. She tried to draw in a steady breath and failed, instead dragging unsteadily on the air entering her lungs. She broke.

“Loki, please, do not take my son.” She begged, her voice no more than a whisper. “He is my whole world.”

“Shhh.” He placed a finger on her lips. Eira’s breathing became shallow, and she could hear ringing in her ears. Loki slid his hand down to cup her chin, tilting it up so he could look in her eyes. She could no longer read what was behind his, and was sure her own were just as confused. He dipped his head, and pressed his lips to her own, softly, with almost no pressure behind them. He closed the tiny gap between them, and dropped his hand to her waist, pulling her closer. Eira couldn’t think to resist. His lips were so soft, and insistent, she couldn’t dream of pulling away. Loki broke away from her finally with a half-smile. He lifted his fingers from her waist, giving her a chance to step out of his influence. When she did nothing, he closed his hands around her waist and pulled her close, kissing her again. His mouth was more insistent, and one of his hands found her hair. Eira found her arms moving around his neck, drawing him closer, thinking it was not possible to allow him closer to her than he already was. She suddenly pulled away and held him at arm’s distance. He licked his lips and allowed a smile of triumph to turn the corners of his mouth up.

“I will come again tomorrow. We can continue this battle then.” He stated, and turned to leave the garden. He walked a few paces, turned, walked back and pulled Eira into another bruising kiss before releasing her and walking toward the gate. Eira’s hand flew to her mouth, still tingling with the memory of Loki’s lips on hers.


	27. Chapter 27

Loki arrived early the next morning. He was disheveled, and looked like he hadn’t slept. His lip was split and there was a bruise spreading across his cheek below one of his eyes, which was in the process of swelling closed. Eira was surprised to see his knuckles were torn and bleeding. He’d been in a fight, and from the looks of things, he had lost.

“What happened?” Eira held the door open, allowing him entrance.

“Twas nothing, Eira.” He grumbled, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, and smearing blood across his cheek. 

“Were you talking when you should have been listening?” She asked, wryly. He scowled in her direction and dropped onto a stool by the hearth.

“I do not wish to discuss it.” He stretched his hands and winced at the pain. Eira took one of his hands in hers, covering the knuckles with her palm. She focused on healing the cuts, and was gratified by the sharp intake of breath Loki made as her magic flowed into his hand.

“Must you always make it so painful?” He snapped.

“Ingrate. I don’t have to heal you.” She dropped the one hand and picked up the other, and despite herself, soothed the pain as she healed him. He attempted to smile in gratitude, and managed to split his lip back open, causing blood to bead on it. He closed his eyes and fought to control the pained look on his face without success. Eira placed a hand on his cheek, her fingers across his swollen eye, and reduced the swelling and bruise. She felt a break in the bone of his cheek and sent a tendril of magic to knit the bone together, before rubbing her thumb across the crack in his lip. Loki’s eyes opened slowly as he held his hand against hers, against his cheek.

“I owe you an apology, Eira.” He breathed. Eira could tell it was a difficult admission.

“Just one?” She cocked her eyebrow in surprise.

“I was a boor. Yesterday. I was so confident you would bend to my will. I was wrong. I apologize.” Every word seemed to cause him pain. Eira pursed her lips.

“You were a boor yesterday. How will that change today?” She questioned. Loki sighed and pulled her hand down to hold it between his own.

“I will not push, and I will not pressure. You know I wish for you to come to the palace and live there. I know you do not want to, not right now. I will simply restate that I would prefer you there and leave it at that. It is my mother’s wish as well. But if you are uncomfortable, I will allow that you should stay here.”

“Allow?” Eira blinked. “Loki, I am my own person. You do not own me to allow me decisions. They are mine to make.”

“That’s not how I meant –“ Loki trailed off. “Eira, I simply meant that if you are not comfortable at the palace, I must respect that. I will seek to change your mind, but in the meantime, I will respect your decision to stay with your mother.”

“And you will stop threatening to take Leif?” She asked. Loki squeezed her hand and bowed his head.

“Leif belongs with you. Until you are ready to come to me, our son remains with you.” He nodded.

“What has changed your mind?” Eira’s eyes narrowed. He dropped her hand and gestured to the dried blood on his face.

“I had a very convincing conversation with an advocate of yours.” He admitted. “I had no idea Fandral was so fond of you.”

“This was Fandral’s doing?” She ran her hand down the side of his face, and along his neck, stopping at his collarbone. She let her magic snake through him, ensuring there were no other injuries she hadn’t seen. She felt a tight pang in her chest that she recognized as disappointment that Thor hadn’t been the one to beat sense into Loki.

“I am sure I will be grateful for years to come that he had not his sword, else you might have been carrying me to Valhalla.” Loki confirmed. Eira met his intense look with her own. 

“I may not agree with his method, but I am glad he made you see reason. And I thank you for being reasonable.” Eira looked away, aware suddenly of the nearness of him. He must have sensed her discomfort, as he sat up and moved back on the stool, putting some much-needed distance between them.

Leif chose that moment to announce he had wakened and wanted to feed. Eira fussed about him, readying him, and apologized to Loki for not being able to offer him anything to eat. Loki waved her off, watching her care for the small baby. When she settled in her chair to nurse, he began to rummage about the kitchen looking for something to eat. He proudly presented her a plate with meat and a boiled egg on it. 

“You should eat as well, my love.” He set it on the hearth beside her. Her head snapped up to look at him.

“Thank you.” She stammered. Loki smiled and took a seat on the stool nearest her, tucking in to his own plate of food. They sat in silence, all three of them eating.

XXX

Eira approached the palace gates cautiously, carrying Leif against her chest. She met a familiar soldier at the guardhouse and smiled.

“I would see Loki.” She asked. He nodded and opened the gate to escort her inside.

“I will take you to the throne room, and then find him for you.” He was brusque and led her quickly through the maze of the palace halls. She followed him into the throne room and forward to the thrones, dipping in a curtsey when she saw Odin seated above her. He gestured for her to climb the dais, and pointed to a chair when she reached him.

“Daughter, you have reconsidered staying here?” He asked, with genuine surprise.

“No, Allfather. But Loki had said Her Majesty preferred I reside here. I thought that perhaps that was because she has not met her grandson yet, and thought that perhaps she would be comforted in a visit.” Eira explained. Odin smiled with real affection.

“You are kinder than he deserves. I will have someone fetch Frigga.” Odin waved a hand to an attendant, who rushed away. “How is my grandson?” 

“He thrives. He eats well. He still does not sleep well, but I am sure that will come.”

“He is not yet a month. I thought we would never sleep again when the boys were babes. Soon you will wonder that he sleeps too much.” Odin laughed, and moved closer to where Eira sat. Eira smiled and noted the movement.

“Would you like to hold him, Allfather?” She offered. He smiled and held his hands out. Eira rose and carefully passed him over. Her nervousness dissipated when she saw how confidently Odin held her son, and she reminded herself that he had two sons of his own that he had held many times over. Leif kicked out and struck Odin’s chest. Odin sat back on the throne and laughed, the low rumble of his voice settling Leif. Frigga and Loki approached the throne from different sides of the room. Frigga broke into a broad smile and rushed forward when she recognized Eira. Eira rose and dipped in reverence. Frigga pulled her back to her feet and gathered her into an embrace.

“Daughter! You need not give reverence any longer. Soon enough you will be a recognized princess of Asgard. We don’t go about bowing to one another.” She kissed Eira on either cheek. “And where is our wee boy?”

Without waiting for an answer, Frigga turned to Odin and demanded Leif. Odin smiled and handed the small bundle of baby over gently. Frigga pulled the blanket away from his face and looked on Leif’s small face, peacefully sleeping, with wonder and love. She cuddled him close to her chest, and rocked, eyes closed, humming softly. Eira felt tears pricking at the back of her eyes, and smiled at the picture of so great a woman so humbled by a tiny baby. She would never be able to doubt the love that anyone had for her son. 

“He is precious, Eira.” Frigga’s voice was soft, and she swayed and walked, cooing at Leif. She stepped down the dais to the main court floor. Thor appeared from a door near where Frigga stood. He strode into the hall, not noticing the scene before him, and stopped dead when he saw Frigga singing to Leif. He looked from Frigga up to the throne, and saw Eira, and Loki. Thor clenched his jaw, the vein in his neck bulging. He swallowed visibly. Eira couldn’t look away from him.

“You summoned me, Father?” Thor bit out. Odin stood and stepped to top stair of the dais.

“This is the first time our whole family has been together since this affair began, Thor.” Odin began, a warning in his voice. Thor turned to glare at Loki.

“And I should be here so that Loki may rub his good fortune in my face?” Thor asked. Eira flinched as he shot an angry look in her direction.

“It is the duty of our family that each of us welcome your new sister and nephew into the house of Odin.” Frigga stepped over to Thor, and set a calming hand on his arm. He pulled it away, angrily.

“She should have been my wife, not my sister.” Thor bit out. Eira blinked, fighting to keep the tears that threatened to spill out restrained.

“And instead you have a sister. And she deserves better from all of us than this. Thor, put aside your wounded pride and welcome her.” Frigga implored him, reaching out for him again. Thor looked away from all of them. For a long moment, Eira was sure he would storm out the same way he’d come in, but he turned back to Frigga, and caught sight of Leif. His gaze softened, and he ran a finger across the soft hair on Leif’s head. He looked up to Eira and sighed. Thor stepped up the dais and knelt in front of her, his head bowed.

“I welcome you, my sister.” His voice broke on the final word. “Well pleased am I to have you as family.” 

Eira laid a hand on his shoulder and murmured her thanks. Thor looked up at her, finally, and the anguish in his eyes was nearly unbearable. A single tear trailed down his cheek.

“Do not cry for me, Thor.” Eira’s voice was thick. He shook his head and looked away, rising to his feet.

“Do you not cry, Eira?” He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Until I had no tears left. And then I looked on my son and saw a child who needs a mother. And he needs a loving uncle too.” She encouraged him. Thor glared at Loki and looked back to her.

“If he ever mistreats you, Eira –“ He began.

“He will not.” She interrupted.

“He is the creator of mischief and lies, Eira.” Thor protested. Eira nodded.

“I know exactly what he is, Thor. My beautiful son is in your mother’s arms as evidence of that.” She agreed.

“Then why –“ 

“Because his son is in my care. Thor, he has stolen my innocence, but your father has decreed this. Please don’t make it more painful than it already is.” Eira cut him off again. Thor looked away again and shook his head.

“When you need me, Eira, I will come.” He promised, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I thank you.” Eira nodded. Thor nodded to Odin and stepped back down the dais. He kissed his mother’s cheek and ran his finger across Leif’s head before heading down the long hall of the room to the main doors. Loki stepped over to Eira.

“Did he promise to defend you, love?” He asked, his smile forced.

“Will he need to?” Eira asked, and retreated to collect Leif from Frigga before heading home.


	28. Chapter 28

Eira knelt in the garden, pulling weeds from the plants she’d so carefully brought back from Midgard. It was hot work, and she wiped her hand across her brow to keep the sweat from her eyes. Leif slept, content at her side, in the small basket he was quickly outgrowing. As she dug in the ground, the scent of licorice filled her senses and overwhelmed her. She sat back on her heels and took in the smell. It was so familiar and so comforting. Eira shook her head at the thought, but realized it was true. The smell she associated with Loki’s magic brought her comfort. She desperately missed his friendship. She pulled a piece of licorice root from the ground and broke it open, holding it to her nose and inhaling. A wave of memories passed across her, of Loki teaching her, Loki working with her, and strangely, of Loki courting her. She shook her head and settled back on her bottom, confusion wrinkling her brow. She inhaled from the spicy root again, and saw Thor as well as Loki, but as she recalled those encounters, she saw Thor’s face melting away, replaced my Loki’s, and she realized with sudden clarity that all the times Thor was most enjoyable, most romantic, most thoughtful, it had been Loki wearing his mask.

Eira dropped the root on the ground, her heart racing and breath short. Every encounter with Thor that had caused her feelings of love for him to intensify so thoroughly had been Loki. When she recounted times that Thor had come courting that had genuinely been Thor, she saw a man whose pride was bruised by her reticence, which redoubled his pursuit, but not because of love. He sought bragging rights, and then, when that was not enough, he’d sought ownership, without even knowing what he sought to own. Eira could feel her heart breaking a second time. Thor did not love her. He had never once uttered the words. Each time his mouth had said them, it had been Loki.

Halla was tending the opposite side of the garden, where the more familiar plants grew. Eira could hear her mother push up from the ground. 

“I’m going to fetch some lunch, Eira. Would you like me to take Leif inside?” Halla asked. Eira looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“No, he is settled, and I will be a while yet. Thank you.” Eira declined and peered into Leif’s basket, watching him suckle his fingers as he slept. Eira was relieved, knowing she would soon be alone with her thoughts. Halla started toward the house, and stopped by the fountain.

“What is this, blooming in the water?” She asked.

“It’s from Vanaheim. It’s called Hothr’s Redemption. It’s for diseases of the eye.” Eira walked over to the fountain. The blooms were centred on the broad leaves of the plant, and were the brightest pink Eira had ever seen. They looked soft, almost as though they had a coating of down on them. She could hardly resist reaching out to stroke one.

“When have you been to Vanaheim to collect plants, Eira?” Halla questioned. Eira looked back to her mother and shook her head.

“I’ve never been to Vanaheim. Loki brought it from one of his trips there.” Eira admitted as Halla turned back toward the house and retired inside. Her heart hitched a little at the recollection. For all his flaws, Loki knew the interests dearest to her heart. He knew her secrets and accepted her for all of them. Eira sat on the edge of the fountain, and used the water to pull one of the blooming plants toward her. She cupped it in her hands, and brought it to her face, and inhaled a softly sweet bouquet. It was fruity and light. She closed her eyes and let her magic flow through the plant, pulling at the elements that made it curative. She could see the strength of the leaf, for curing blindness, but the flower also had a special power to it that she couldn’t quite tease out. She stroked the fuzzy petals and cast into the flower itself, worrying out the properties. She felt a lightness in her chest, and felt unburdened. Her eyes blinked back open and she stared curiously down at the flower.

“That is a different redemption than I’d assumed.” She breathed. The flower, prepared correctly, would restore joy. She stared back down at the bloom. “What other secrets do you hold, plant?”

“The Vanir are very secretive about the healing properties of their plants. They only told me about the cure for vision.” Loki had snuck into the garden unheard, again. He set a plate and two cups beside her on the fountain’s edge. “Your mother sent me out with a meal.”

Eira carefully slipped the plant back into the water, and looked at Loki. He looked exhausted, and his eyes were sorrowful. He wasn’t so distraught that he wasn’t the very picture of a prince, his clothes were immaculate, his hair neatly brushed back. But when Eira looked closer, she saw signs of his distress. His nails were ragged, and the skin around them raw. His eyes were red, as though he weren’t getting enough sleep. His shoulders rolled in on themselves, making his already slight frame look narrower. And his boots were worn and filthy, as though he’d been spending a long time walking.

“You look tired, Loki.” She observed. He smirked.

“As difficult as it may be to believe, I do not take lightly my actions.” He offered. Eira met his eyes, and took in the sadness there.

“While I do believe you, I still am left wondering why.” She stated, wanting him to admit everything she’d revealed herself.

“Because I am a half-witted ass. And I thought I could deceive you into loving me more than you loved Thor.” His lips curled in distaste around his brother’s name. “It was foolish, and ill-advised.”

“It was. Why could you not accept my friendship?” Eira wondered. Loki looked away.

“Because every time I was in your presence, my heart ached for want of you. We should have been matched from childhood, with our mutual strengths and talents. And instead, the first time you arrive in court, you got lost in the golden glory of my brother.” His jaw ticked, and he sniffed, then wiped the edge of his eye.

“I will not apologize for loving your brother, Loki. He pursued me. He made his intentions known. You could have done the same. Had you but courted me the way you made your brother appear to, Loki.” Eira swallowed thickly, and suddenly felt the weight of the hammer she still wore around her neck. She covered it with her hand, thinking to remove it when Loki left. He caught the movement and pulled her hand away, revealing the necklace. He turned away and let out what could only be described as a roar of anguish. Eira’s heart constricted at his pain. She wanted so badly to hate him, but the hurt the flowed out of him broke her.

Loki turned back and took the hammer in his hand. He lifted it carefully from her neck and held it in his palm, shaking his head.

“Your romance with him has been over for nearly a month, since my betrayal was revealed. And you still wear this?” He closed his hand around it, clenching his fist. “Eira, you have been promised to me. You are, by my father’s own words, already my wife. And you wear my brother’s trinket as though you have still promised to be faithful to him?”

His voice was low, and cracked as he spoke. Eira saw tears fill his eyes, and watched as he looked away, trying to hide them. She rushed to him and placed her hands on his clenched fist.

“Loki, please. I had forgotten I wore it, and would have cast it off the day Leif was born, had I been in my right mind. Please. I am trying so desperately hard to forgive you, and move forward, Loki, you must be patient with me, and give me time.” Eira begged. Loki’s fist relaxed in her hand, and she reached up to his cheek. “I have seen so much in the past weeks that I’d never seen before. I was blind. Brynhildr, Kara, even Hrist. They all tried to pull the wool from my eyes before this happened that I might see you, and I did not. I see it all now, so clearly. But you have caused me such great sorrow and hurt, you must give me more time.”

Loki looked down at her, and blinked. The tears that had threatened now overflowed his eyes, and Eira realized that the redness might not have been solely caused by lack of sleep. She pressed her face against his chest, and drew him into her arms, her heart aching. His arms snaked around her back, and he rested his head on hers. They stood in silence for a long time, the birdsong the only sound around them. Even Leif slept on, not breaking the fragile peace between them.

“Will you ever love me, Eira?” Loki’s voice was a rough whisper. Eira sighed and looked up at him.

“I have always loved you, Loki. When I go back, and think on all the time I spent with Thor, it was the Thor who bore the tang of licorice that I loved. It was that Thor, who was interested in my person, who stole kisses because they should be stolen, and not demanded. It was the Thor who wooed me with Midgard’s stars that I loved. And that was not Thor.” Eira whispered. Loki’s eyes widened.

“How did you –“

“Your magic, and everything about you, leaves a lingering scent of licorice. I thought perhaps it was a familial scent because it lingered on Thor as well. But when your deception was revealed, I realized that was not the case. And I recalled the times I was happiest with Thor were the times he reeked of you. The Allfather was right. If there hadn’t been some shred of love there, that scent would have warned me it was you. But I loved you, and I loved your brother both so desperately that I overlooked it.” She explained. Loki shook his head.

“I never meant –“

“You did. You must have. You are filled with mischief, and are prone to lies and deceptions, Loki; it is in your nature. You may not have known that I’d not lain with Thor, but you knew what the consequence could be. Had you but wooed me in your own form, this betrayal and heartache might not have been. Leif may have come to parents who were happy in love. You may have won a fair fight.” Eira sighed.

“And now you need more time.” Loki nodded. 

“I do. I need time, and I need my friend back. We can start as friends. We have so much of our lives ahead of us; there is no rush there, Loki. In time, the hurt will fade, and I will be able to forgive you. But I need that time, to free my love for you from the dungeon you cast it into with your deceit.” Eira was exhausted.

“I will give you time. But I cannot simply be your friend. I would have your permission to court you.” Loki bargained. Eira tipped her head back into his chest and took a deep breath, her lungs filling with leather, licorice and something more earthy that she couldn’t quite identify. 

“I can agree to those terms.” She murmured into his chest. He tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes.

“Then may I steal a kiss to seal the contract?” His telltale smirk was in place, but it seemed softer. He licked his lips and raised an eyebrow in question.

“It’s not theft if you ask and it is freely given.” Eira breathed and met his lips with her own.


	29. Chapter 29

Eira felt the call of war just as keenly laying in her bed with Leif beside her as she ever had before, and with the call, she felt a pull to follow. She missed the other Valkyries. She missed riding into battle and escorting the dead to Valhalla. She missed returning to the warfield and healing the wounded. She pulled Leif’s basket closer and tried to ignore the tug at the back of her mind that insisted she follow her sisters. She had not even ceased bleeding since Leif had been born; it was still too early to be carrying herself off to war. 

She worried about Midgard on nights when she felt the call. She worried that the people would think she had abandoned them, when she was still just trying to settle into her new role as a mother. She wondered if she should plan to follow and heal, but she knew she would need to bring Leif along, as he was yet too young to be left with her mother. Maybe Odin would release her for a short while, just so the call didn’t wrest her from her sleep at night. It merited consideration, she thought, as she drifted back into the same troubled sleep that always haunted her when she ignored the call.

She woke to Leif cooing in his basket, his tiny fists waving. He was slowly beginning to sleep more, and he was a good baby. He cried the usual amount but it wasn’t a fussy cry, it just felt to Eira as though he was delivering information, as he settled so quickly when his needs were met. She carefully changed him, and washed his tiny bum before diapering him again and bringing him to breast. He latched easily, settling his small hands on either side of her breast. His eyes closed and he made soft, contented noises as he suckled. Eira ran a finger across the soft down of his head, and smiled at his perfect wee features. 

“Eira, your mother told me you were still abed –“ Brynhildr dropped her voice when she saw that Leif was quiet, and tiptoed the rest of the way into the room, dropping down beside Eira on the bed.

“Where were you off to last night?” Eira asked.

“Midgard. I was surprised to see you there healing. Tis why I came. I think it unwise for you to be out with Leif so young.” Bryn chastised her.

“I wasn’t there. I laid in bed, unable to sleep for ignoring the call.” Eira was puzzled. Bryn laughed suddenly, clapping her hands and startling Leif off the breast. She held her hands out in apology as Eira resettled him.

“I’m sorry!” She whispered. “There was something not right about you last night. The healing was imperfect, and the healers that knew you thought you odd. I would wager Loki was out last night, helping.” She chuckled quietly.

“Did he look pretty?” Eira giggled. Bryn put a hand over her mouth to stop from laughing loudly again.

“He did fill your red hangarok with lovely curves.” Bryn winked, and dissolved into giggles again.

“I owe him my thanks. I’ve been very worried about my absence.” Eira bit her lip and struggled to speak without mirth. Bryn shook her head.

“No, Eira, do not worry. This was the first time the call has been to Midgard since Leif was born. Things seem peaceful right now, this was an outlying skirmish. I will be here to hound you when you need to be ready to ride again.” Bryn squeezed her arm. “In the meantime, we miss you, and would have you ride to Valkyrjahús to visit.”

“I will ride out as soon as I can manage riding.” Eira promised.

“How fare things with our warring princes?” Bryn changed the subject.

“I fear Thor never loved me.” Eira stated, flatly. “But I was blind to not see Loki’s devotion.”

“I could not think to comment on Thor, but you know we all saw Loki’s love for you early.” Bryn nodded.

“I wish he had just said something, instead of haunting me in his brother’s form.” Eira complained.

“I don’t think you would have heard him, Eira. You were blinded by Thor’s presence. Thor has always been larger than life itself. He fills every room he enters. It’s hard not to be taken in by that.” Bryn offered.

“That makes me more at fault than him then, Bryn, and –“

“Oh, no, Eira. You do not carry the burden of fault. Loki deceived you, and betrayed you. Would you have willingly lain with him?” Bryn interrupted.

“No, not then.”

“He raped you then, Eira. You mustn’t forget that.” Bryn’s voice was hard.

“I might not ever forget, but knowing what I know now, and facing the future I face, bonded to him, should I not at least try to forgive him?” Eira questioned. Bryn bit her lip.

“Do you want to? Really, and truly, Eira. Do you want to forgive him?” Bryn turned the question back to Eira.

“Bryn, he was my closest friend. He knows all my secrets, he saved my life, he helped me tame my magic. More than anything I can think of, I want to forgive him. I’ve begun to try, even. And then I remember that he took me against my will.” Eira held Leif up on her shoulder to burp him, distracted from her comments to pat the babe’s back. Bryn frowned as Eira fumbled with the edge of her shift, covering herself modestly.

“Do you know yet if Odin will release you?”

“He has said nothing to suggest that he will.” Eira shook her head. Leif finally burped and she offered him the other breast. He latched quickly, clearly still hungry. 

“You have much to consider then. You cannot die, and he can. Leif can. I’ve never known a Valkyrie to have to make this decision. Will you keep Leif? It is not unreasonable to request a foster-mother for him so that you may fulfill your duties as a Valkyrie. You would be free of Loki, and the burden of motherhood.” Bryn suggested. Eira gasped, and held Leif closer.

“Bryn, you cannot mean that!” She cried. “I was never intended for the Valkyries, it was not what the Norns foretold for me. Odin saw that I would be the author of conflict between Thor and Loki, and sought to prevent it by calling me to our number. I was intended to be a mother, and a wife, and a healer. You know how desperately I fought the calling. I am at peace with it now, I value it now, but it was not ever to be in my nature, and I have struggled more than any of you to achieve the skills and abilities that I do have. I can’t imagine not riding with you, my sisters, but I also cannot imagine leaving my son with another to raise.”

“You know your mind, Eira. You just needed to say the words out loud. You have already forgiven Loki, I think. Now you need to make him earn your trust and love. And then maybe the Norns might be wrong. Maybe you and Loki will be happy, and Thor will be able to move on, and the hard feelings will die.” Bryn rose from the bed and kissed Eira’s forehead. She tickled Leif’s toes, and turned.

“You are gone so soon?” Eira complained.

“I rode all night, and will serve in Valhalla tonight. I need some sleep, litla systir.” Bryn yawned, emphasising her point. Eira nodded.

“Please give Jarni and Papa my love?” Eira asked.

“Everytime, without you needing to ask me. They were relieved to hear you delivered safely. I haven’t unfolded the deceptions you’ve endured to them, that is your story to tell. But they know that you are well, and Leif is thriving. I will see you again soon. Come out and visit as soon as you can seat Fleygur.” Bryn departed. Eira leaned against the wall and finished feeding Leif, her thoughts a confused jumble.

XXX

“Sister!” Thor’s voice boomed across the field, as he approached where she sat near the lake. Eira stiffened in response. Forcing herself to relax, she turned to face him.

“My brother. What brings you to me?” She asked, puzzled. Thor closed the distance between them and sat in the sand beside her, looking out on the lake.

“There is much we need to say, I think.” He admitted. “I ache for what should have been mine but has been torn from me by my brother’s deceit.”

“Thor –“ Eira began.

“Loki returned this to me. But it is yours, Eira, and it was a gift from me to you.” Thor held the tiny silver hammer between them.

“It was a gift demarking ownership, Thor. I am no longer yours to mark.” Eira shook her head.

“I did not seek to own you, Eira.” Thor grumbled, fumbling to put the necklace back in his pouch.

“Did you truly seek to love me?” Eira asked, her voice a whisper. Thor’s head snapped back to look at her. His brow furrowed and he frowned.

“I would have loved you better than any man.” He swore.

“You would have? But did you?” Eira asked.

“We had not courted long, Eira.”

“Thor, you sought to wed me, you must have felt some fondness for me.” Eira fought to keep the astonishment from her voice.

“Of course I was fond of you! I would have wed you, and I would have grown to love you above all others.” Thor’s voice rose. Eira shot a quick look to the basket Leif slept in. Thor flinched and sighed.

“But you do not love me now.” Eira completed for him. He looked away, across the water.

“My feelings for you are complicated by my brother’s son.” Thor dodged the question.

“While you were Svartalfheim, what were your feelings for me?” Eira pressed.

“That I wanted to see you. To hold you in my arms. That kissing you would have been preferable to the peace I was negotiating. That when we left that realm, I would press my suit with the Allfather again, or encourage you to elope.” Thor explained.

“None of those feelings are love, Thor. They are desire, and lust. A quest for ownership.” Eira sighed.

“No, Eira, I did love you!” Thor protested.

“I think you loved the notion of me, Thor. But what do you truly know about me?” Eira challenged.

“I know you are a gifted healer. You are beautiful, gracious, kind. Your heart is soft, and you grieve your losses. I remember the bleak sorrow you adorned yourself with when Jarni was killed, and how you outshone every woman in the room, despite your mourning.” Thor began. “I watched you hold yourself apart from the other women of court, but not with unkindness, but because your interests were so different.”

“And you know I am a Valkyrie.” Eira led.

“So you say, Eira, but I think you ill-suited to the title. You are too soft, and womanly.” He shook his head.

“Thor, I ran you through, without a second thought of the consequence because you sought to kill me in your battle rage. I am not soft.”

“And then you ran to heal me. Another would have left me for dead.”

“No Valkyrie would have left your for dead after inflicting such a wound, Thor. We answer to the Allfather for our actions. We are gifted the ability to raise the dead. I’ve never known any of us to use it, but we are gifted with it. You would have lived, regardless of which of the twelve wounded you. But it was not one of the others, it was me. I lanced your belly. And you think me ill-suited for my calling?” Eira was incredulous.

“You are a healer by your nature, Eira. You risk yourself for the warriors on the field. Your altruism means you will never be suited to the life of a Valkyrie, and I could have taken you away from that!” Thor protested, heat rising in his cheeks.

“I am a healer by nature, you are correct. But that nature makes me very well suited to my calling. My compassion helps the honoured dead to pass into Valhalla without so much anguish. You could never have taken me from that. The Allfather refuses to release me, even now. Think you he would do any differently had this been your son?” Eira covered his hand with hers. “Thor, as much as it pains me, I think you never would have loved me. You would have discovered I was a shieldmaiden of Valhalla and you would have seen it as a betrayal that would have killed any fondness you felt.”

Thor shook his head and looked her in the eye. Eira could see his temper flaring. He pulled his hand out from under hers and looked across the lake again. When he turned back to her again, there was a look of resolution on his face that made Eira push herself up on her hands. 

“Thor, what are –“ 

Thor cut her off by crushing his mouth against hers possessively. She struggled against the onslaught of his mouth, trying to push him away, but he did not even notice the push of her hands, or acknowledge when she balled her hands into fists and beat his shoulders, instead continuing the kiss, and pushing her into the sand under his strong body. Panic flooded her, and she bit his lip, and brought her knee into his crotch. He rolled off, cursing. Eira scrambled to her feet and over to Leif’s basket. She pulled the babe into her arms and turned to run back home, watching over her shoulder to make sure Thor wasn’t following. She slammed into someone forcefully and stumbled back. Loki’s hand reached out to steady her.

“Kissing my brother, Eira? Were you not kissing me just yesterday?” Loki’s words cut through her like ice.

“I did not kiss him. He forced his attentions on me.” Eira stammered.

“And why, wife, were you alone with him?” Loki raised an eyebrow, his face devoid of expression. His fingers dug into her shoulder painfully and she flinched.

“You hurt me, Loki.”

“Why were you alone with him?” Loki yelled. Leif started, and began to cry. Eira tried to wrench herself from his grip unsuccessfully.

“I was alone, just with Leif. He sought me out. Please, Loki, you hurt me and you’ve scared your son!” Eira begged. Loki glared over her at Thor.

“Did he simply seek to kiss you, as well?” His grip loosened enough that his fingers no longer dug into her shoulder, but she still couldn’t wrest herself away.

“He sought to prove his affection. Please, Loki. I did not seek him out, and I did not seek his kisses. You must believe me!” Eira cried, tears coursing down her face. She placed her free hand on his chest. Loki looked down on her, the indifferent look replaced with anguish.

“I do not know what to believe. Why would you not return to his arms after what I have done?” His voice was low that Thor wouldn’t hear it. Eira shook her head.

“I thought we’d come to an understanding, Loki. I thought you accepted that I needed time, but that I am trying to work past your deception. I would not seek to break our truce to dally with a man who has never loved me.” Eira slid her hand up to his face. “Please believe me. I accepted your request for courtship. I would not be so malicious as to turn around and flaunt another the very next day.”

“Perhaps you were right, and the Norns intend misery to pursue us.” He choked and turned away, finally letting go of Eira’s shoulder. Without a backward glance, he stalked away, leaving Eira behind.


	30. Chapter 30

Eira knelt in front of Odin’s throne, waiting leave to join him on the dais. She chewed the inside of her lip nervously, and kept looking behind her, waiting for Loki or Thor to arrive and accuse her of all manner of evil. She had been alone for weeks since the incident with Thor at the lake, and had grown restless and agitated waiting for something, anything to happen. She finally had given up, and ridden Fleygur to the palace to demand an audience with the Allfather. 

Odin finally gestured for her to join him, and she quickly ascended the stair and took her usual seat on the stool nearby. He looked around the room and dismissed his retinue before casting a hard eye on Eira. He looked more imposing than he had in ages. The softness around his eye was gone, and Eira knew he had received a report from Loki. She wondered why Thor wouldn’t have given his side of the story, but realized she would look just as bad in his report.

“Eira, have I been wrong to bond you to Loki?” Odin asked. “Was I wrong in the presumption of your honour, that you would honour the words I had spoken?”

“Allfather, no. I do not know what has been reported to you, but I can imagine it painted an unflattering picture of me. But it is a false report. Thor sought to use action to prove his fondness for me. I am not sure what Loki saw, but it clearly wasn’t me pushing Thor away.” Eira chose her words carefully.

“You can see how this might not be the most believable story, Eira, so soon after you and Thor have been torn apart.” Odin’s words were just as careful.

“I can imagine the disgust Loki must have felt. But Allfather, I –“ Eira trailed off, and sighed. “I have been searching my soul. I know now that Thor has never loved me. I knew it before the incident at the lake. And I know Loki thinks he loves me. I am trying to find a place in my heart for him.” She was so frustrated, and tired, and sad, and each emotion was painted in her words.

“I also think Loki loves you, Eira.” Odin offered. “I have never seen him put aside trouble and folly as often as I have seen him do on your behalf.”

Eira hung her head, and sighed again. She looked down the length of the throne room and considered the Allfather’s words. She needed to be free of the conflict between the brothers, free of the pressure to accept her lot. She needed time to think and clear her mind of all the deception and betrayal she had suffered. She said as much to Odin. 

“If you would allow me, Allfather, I would take Leif and go to Vanaheim. Loki brought me an amazing plant from there, and the mysteries of its healing properties intrigue me greatly. I would like to search flora there and find what else might be helpful in my healing bag. It would give us all a chance to be away from one another, to calm our nerves. And perhaps allow cooler heads to prevail.” Eira requested. Odin leaned back, and pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“The only freedom you will glean from travelling off-realm is if you go with no one knowing, Eira. Thor and Loki would both just follow. Are you prepared to endure the consequence of what may be perceived as abandoning your bound husband?” Odin raised his eyebrow.

“If you will ensure that Loki sees that Thor has not followed me, I will happily brave Loki’s displeasure.” Eira agreed, her heart already feeling lighter.

“You will require an escort. Fandral has championed you many times since you healed him, and I know Loki would not see him as a threat. Go and prepare yourself, and I will have word sent to Vanaheim to expect you. Fandral will collect you to the Bifrost when all is arranged.” Odin dismissed her. 

Eira adjusted Leif in her arms and rose, bowing lightly before making her way down the long throne room hall. She pulled the door open and came face to face with Loki. He expelled a sigh of disgust and turned away, walking quickly in the opposite direction. Eira quickened her steps and followed after him. He pushed through a pair of broad doors into a quiet garden and turned to face Eira when she followed him through the entrance.

“Do you seek to rub salt in the wound, Eira?” He snarled. 

Eira said nothing, just stepped toward him with her free hand out. She placed it on his chest, above his heart and allowed her magic to ebb into him. She pulled on the memory of the Vanir water-flower, and the joy it could bring, and pushed that through her fingers into his chest. His breath caught and he stepped away, his hand slowly rubbing where she’d touched him. She stepped close again and traced her hand along his jaw, bringing his face down to hers. She tilted her head, and kissed him softly. Before he could respond, she pulled back and looked him in the eye.

“Had you watched the entire scene unfold, instead of assuming the worst of me, you would have seen me pushing him off, and bringing my knee into his crotch. I made you a promise. Do not thrust your insecurities and inadequacies on me.” Eira turned away and exited the garden, leaving Loki to brood.

XXX

“I understand we are to have an adventure, my lady goddess!” Fandral announced as he swept into the house. Eira smiled and handed him her pack. He raised an eyebrow, but accepted it.

“I have much to carry, packing for both Leif and myself. I will graciously accept your assistance, Fandral.” Eira teased and handed him a basket. Fandral glanced around the room and took in the large amounts of gear Eira had prepared. He suddenly laughed.

“It is good that I have brought a work-horse as well as my mount. I had no idea that a babe would take up so much space.” He shook his head.

“Remember your words about being a terrible husband?” Eira had been in a considerably lighter mood since gaining the Allfather’s permission to travel to Vanaheim, and the teasing lilt in her voice made Fandral blush.

“Well, I think Kara does not mind my failings.” He winked. Eira shrieked with laughter and smacked him.

“You are still carrying on with her? I would have thought she had tired of you long ago!” Eira exclaimed. Fandral’s laugh spread to his eyes, which crinkled at the edges. He stilled, suddenly somber.

“Tis good to hear your laugh, Eira. I worried I would never hear it again.” He admitted, and began to carry her things out to the workhorse.

The packed up her belongings with more inane conversation, catching up on the gossip of court, and the tales of thwarted romance he had endured since becoming entangled with Kara. Eira couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of her friend looming over other women as Fandral attempted to flirt. Eira mounted Fleygur, and Fandral passed Leif up to her, so she could secure him in the sling she carried him in when she needed both her arms. When they arrived at Himinbjorg, Heimdall met them and ushered them inside.

“The Allfather has sworn me to secrecy about your journey. We should send you on your way with haste, that fewer people notice the Bifrost opening again. The Valkyries left for Midgard just a few moments ago.” Heimdall slid his sword into the pedestal at the centre of the room. The Bifrost pulled them across the rainbow bridge and deposited them in Vanaheim. 

Eira took in her surroundings with awe. It was so lush, and green. Like Midgard in the late spring, but more fragrant. The foliage seemed denser almost. Fandral turned his horse around and looked across the field behind them.

“This way, Eira. The Allfather has arranged for us to be guests at the palace, and it’s a fair ride. There are healing rooms not far off from it, and once we have settled, I will take you there. Depending on the wee prince, of course.” Fandral called. 

Eira steered Fleygur around and followed after Fandral. They hadn’t been riding long when Leif awoke and demanded to be fed. Eira reigned in Fleygur near a small hillock leading into a copse of trees. She dismounted with Fandral’s assistance and seated herself on a outcropping of rocks, and got Leif settled to eat. Fandral made himself busy at his horse until Leif was latched and then joined Eira. Fandral held out a small loaf of bread and some cheese, before sitting beside her.

“You gave Loki a thrashing.” Eira stated as she pulled a piece of bread off the loaf and ate. Fandral nodded.

“He deserved it. He betrayed your trust in a way that even I couldn’t condone. And I’m a rake, and a cad.” Fandral admitted.

“You didn’t fight him for Thor?” Eira was surprised.

“Thor is a big boy, and can fight his own battles. He is as big a fool as his brother, Eira.” Fandral was to the point. “I owe you a life-debt. I owe Loki one as well, but you are prettier, so I was more motivated to leap to your defense. And besides, beating him probably paid my debt to him.”

“I am grateful for it, Fandral.”

“I’ll deal with Thor for you when we return home. I was not aware of what had transpired to cause this trip until just before we departed.” Fandral offered.

“No, please. Don’t. I’m hoping we can stay away long enough that their tempers simmer down. And Thor has Mjolnir. I don’t relish putting you back together because you met the wrong side of that hammer.” Eira laughed. Fandral smirked.

“I would challenge him to fists. Or swords. I’ve known Thor long enough to know his weaknesses. But I will stand down, if you request it.” He agreed.

“I do. I appreciate it –“

“I owe you a life-debt, Eira. I am not unlike the men of Midgard, who know salvation rides as a Valkyrie. I just have the advantage of knowing her as my friend, so my prayers seem more like conversation.” Fandral patted her knee. Eira laughed again and shook her head.

“You are a sentimental fool, Fandral.”

“And you are my favourite goddess, Eira. I will stand in your service until death takes me. And when it does, I will pray that you carry me to Valhalla.” Fandral admitted.

“Not Kara?” Eira teased.

“We all know that is not a long-term commitment, Eira. I am just as surprised as you that she ahs not tired of me yet.” Fandral chuckled. Eira rubbed his arm with affection.

“You are rather charming.” Eira pretended to swoon, setting them both to laughing again.

“Would that I had met you first, Eira. I might have seen you as something other than a sister, and spared you all this heartache.” Fandral’s tone was light, but Eira knew he meant the words.

“I think it is not in your nature to love for long, Fandral, and you would have left me just as broken hearted.” Eira pointed out. Fandral flushed and nodded.

“Are you still so heartsick?” He questioned.

“Leif fills my heart. The past weeks have been difficult. I truly do not know what I feel, Fandral. That is why I needed to be away from it all. I need to know my heart when there is nothing to interrupt it.” She admitted. Fandral nodded and they fell into a companionable silence as they ate.


	31. Chapter 31

The Vanir were welcoming, but careful with their healing craft, just as Loki had noted previously. Eira’s reputation had preceded her, however, and the Vanir healers were quick to share their most basic knowledge for hers. Eira suspected for any further depth of understanding, she was going to have to work some magic, both in charm and in study. 

Fandral was immensely bored, and would break her studies with the healers in the early afternoon of every day to make her go riding with him. Eira was happy for the distraction, as it allowed her to clear her head, and make a catalogue of the plants she was discovering on Vanaheim. Fandral indulged her desire to stop and pick various plants, and record their locations, so that when the time came to return to Asgard, she could make a quick survey and collect what she wanted to take home. He never complained, he just stood guard or when he deemed it perfectly safe, played with Leif while Eira poked and dug in the dirt.

“Eira, I have watched you for some time on the warfields. Your swordwork is sloppy.” Fandral made conversation as Eira plucked the petals from some variant of daisy.

“Mmhmm.” She was distracted and not paying attention. 

“So I was thinking we should get you a jellyfish. Because it would make a lovely hat.” He continued in the same tone. Eira nodded absently.

“That sounds lovely, Fandral.” She murmured. Fandral started laughing, at first just a quiet chuckle. 

“Yes, and if we combined it with a goat, you’d be ready for Jul.” He snickered. Eira looked up, puzzled. Fandral was biting his lip and turning red trying to restrain his mirth.

“Jul isn’t for months, Fandral.” She commented. Fandral lost his composure and let loose with a bellowing laugh that startled Leif awake. He held up his hand in apology, but could not stop himself.

“A jellyfish hat, with a goat?” He could barely form the words, he was laughing so hard.

“What nonsense are you speaking, Fandral?” Eira tried to stop herself from laughing, but Fandral’s joy was contagious. “Why are we laughing?” 

“You were paying me no mind, and simply agreeing with everything I said.” He chuckled, finding a rock to sit on. “I felt it prudent to teach you a lesson about listening when spoken to.”

“Instead you look the lunatic, and I cannot help myself for laughing.” Eira grinned, rocking Leif. He was rubbing his eyes sleepily, but not crying. 

Fandral took a deep breath and tried to look serious before dissolving into giggles again. Eira rolled her eyes and went back to resettling Leif in his basket. He fussed a little and quickly fell back to sleep.

“You have my undivided attention, if you can control your laughter long enough to tell me what you really wanted to say, and not rant about eels and sheep.” Eira smiled.

“Jellyfish and goats. No mind. I was saying that when I’ve watched you as a Valkyrie that your swordwork is not,” He paused, searching for a word, “that is to say, you aren’t –“

“Yes, I am poor with a sword, Fandral. That’s why I appreciated Thor’s attempts to have Sif train me. Although I supposed that chance is now lost.” Eira admitted. Fandral made a face that suggested she was right.

“Well, Sif is the expert on women warriors because she is one. I, however, am an expert on women, and swordplay. It’s different, but I still understand how women’s bodies work. And I should be able to relate that back to improving your fighting style. I’d like for us to use these afternoons for some training. At least then I will feel I’ve done more than just play the dutiful uncle for Leif.” He explained. Eira closed her book and looked at him thoughtfully.

“Alright. But I don’t think knowing your way around a woman in her bedchamber means you will have any real understanding how her body works.” She agreed.

“How much longer do you plan to stay, Eira? I don’t begrudge you the time here, I can see all you are learning and know the benefit it will be to everyone you contact. But I would like to know how much time I have for lessons.” Fandral asked. 

“We’ve been here a month already and I’ve just barely scratched the surface. I need to find a way to earn the Vanir healer’s trust. They are reticent to part with the secondary effects of their plants, and I know there is more below the surface.”

“You should ask Freyr if there’s a way to loosen their tongues.” Fandral suggested. “Although perhaps be more diplomatic in your phrasing.” 

Eira nodded and went back to the plant she was studying. She ground some petals between her fingers and inhaled the scent of them, drawing the perfume in. She felt drowsy, and light-headed. By her record of what the Vanir had told her, the flower was helpful for stomach aches. But the sedative effect felt more powerful. She licked her fingers, and felt her stomach, which seemed to always be rolling, relax. But the drowsiness remained. She pulled her book back out and scribbled down her impressions, and pressed a fresh flower between the leaves.

The afternoon sun was beginning to make its descent in the sky, and Fandral made his wish to have her back to the Vanir palace known in as many ways as he could. Eira finally bundled Leif to her chest, strapped his basket to Fleygur’s saddle and mounted for the ride back. Fandral kept her mind busy talking about combat techniques, and she was passing glad for the distraction, knowing it would keep Fandral happy and out of trouble.

XXX

It was a feasting night. Eira realized soon after arriving in Vanir that most nights were for feasting and reveling at the palace, but the level of excitement was higher than it had been thus far. She was curious as to what merited such eager preparations, but soon overheard one of the servants saying that Freya had arrived early in the afternoon. Eira was eager to see her acquaintance, although they weren’t close. It would be nice to see a familiar face. 

After seeing to Leif’s bath and dinner, Eira washed herself up, trying to get the dirt from under her nails and around her cuticles, with no avail. She combed her hair, and changed into a clean tunic and hangarok. As she was slipping her boots back on, a knock sounded on the door. Eira moved to open the broad door quickly, not wanting to be late. Fandral was waiting, looking as though he’d taken some extra time with his preparation. Eira gave him an appraising look, and raised an eyebrow.

“Really, Eira. Freya is a beautiful woman. I can’t help wanting to look my best.” Fandral rolled his eyes, and offered his elbow. Eira took it and they made their way to the feast hall. They were seated at the head table, which made Eira incredibly uncomfortable, despite Fandral’s reassurances that it was merely because they were guests who had been introduced by the Allfather, and nothing more. Eira’s mead cup was already filled with the delicious spiced mead that was the specialty of the Vanir. She settled Leif in his basket at her feet before allowing Fandral to assist her into her seat. He sat down beside her and looked across the room, ready to distract her with anything her found amusing, as he did every night.

“Minnsta Valkyrja! I have missed seeing you!” Freya approached. Eira sprang to her feet to show courtesy, but Freya waved her down. 

“Freya, you look well.” Eira smiled. Freya leaned across the table and kissed Eira’s cheek.

“As do you, Eira. You are sorely missed on the warfields. Particularly in Midgard.” She offered. Eira nodded in agreement.

“I worry on it greatly. But soon Leif will be old enough that I can return to my duties.” She replied.

“Return? The Allfather did not release you? After bearing the heir of Asgard?” Freya was shocked. Eira shook her head.

“No, there’s more to the story –“

“Yes, I’d heard about Loki from Brynhildr.” Freya interrupted, peering into Leif’s basket. “Oh, he is beautiful! And the very image of his father.”

“Regardless, Freya, I have not been released. I will return to duty shortly, probably not long after I am finished studying here.” Eira explained. 

“And how go your studies, Eira?”

“The healers are generous with their time.”

“But not their expertise, I take it?” Freya filled in the blank in Eira’s carefully worded response. Eira flushed, and Freya nodded, smirking. “Yes, they guard our secrets perhaps to fervently. I would hope they see the wisdom of teaching you the deeper secrets of Vanir healing. If you’ll excuse me, lítið Valkyrja, I will see you later this evening. I have been away long, and have many to still greet.” 

Freya nodded briefly at Fandral, and turned away, heading into the crowd. She stopped at almost everyone, embracing each one like a long-lost lover.

“Why does she call you little Valkyrie, Eira?” Fandral asked.

“Because I am the newest, and youngest.” Eira laughed.

“Certainly not your height. I think you might be the tallest.” Fandral chuckled. Eira rolled her eyes.

“Yes, I know.” Eira’s wry tone belied her words. “There is nothing ladylike about me. I am tall, I am awkward, I have red hair.” She stuck out her tongue. Fandral laughed.

“You are tall enough that no man needs crane his neck to kiss you, you are awkward until you wield your spear or save a soul, and your hair is like fire. You are every bit a woman, Minnsta Valkyrja.” He teased. Eira swatted him on the arm and laughed.

“Don’t let anyone hear you flirt with me, you fool. They might take you seriously and think you are worthy of a whipping!” She whispered. “It’s bad enough they already treat me as though I am princess.”

“Eira, you already are. Just because there has not been a wedding does not mean you are not a princess. You are bound to Loki. It is done.” Fandral shook his head. “Do you think you can escape this? With his son in your arms?”

“No, Fandral. I am quite ready to take my place as his wife. I had shirked one duty for too long, I will not disrespect the Allfather a second time. I just,” She paused and took a drink from her mead cup, “I wish there were less enmity between Thor and Loki. I wish I could forget Loki’s betrayal. I wish I could forget how blind I was to Thor’s indifference.”

“He was never indifferent, Eira. He was very passionate about you. I don’t think Thor capable of love, not right now. But you are the closest he’s ever been. And that fuels his rage because he does not know how to manage softer feelings.” Fandral explained. Eira drained her mead cup, and poured another glass. She had much to think on that was not just Vanir healing.


	32. Chapter 32

“If you swing your arm like this, and follow through with your hips, you will have a greater force behind the blow, Eira.” Fandral stepped away and demonstrated, holding his sword above his head. He stepped through the arc of the sword slowly, wrapping it around the tree he was making Eira pretend was an enemy. As his sword struck the tree, his hips swiveled, delivering more force to the blow. Eira nodded and took up the sword. She nearly threw her shoulder out of joint swinging it into the tree. Fandral laughed.

“No, you still haven’t got it. Here.” Fandral stood behind Eira, and put a foot between hers. “First, you need to spread your legs a little wider, and bend your knees.” 

“But I was –“

“Now, hold the sword like this,” His arm paralleled hers, putting the sword in the position he’d shown her, and then snaked his hand back down to her hip. “I will help you move your hips, so relax.”

“Tis an intimate hold, Fandral.” Eira fought the urge to squirm away.

“And we are like siblings, Eira. It is as awkward for me as it is for you. Perhaps if you could learn this, we could disentangle ourselves?” Fandral chuckled from where he was nestled behind her. He led her through the blow, pushing her hips into place as she swung the sword. The blow landed harder, and bit into the bark. Eira peeled away and pulled the sword out of tree.

“I felt what you meant this time.” Eira’s eyes sparkled. “Move, and let me see if I can do this without you.”

Fandral stepped away and leaned against the tree behind them. Eira resumed the stance Fandral had showed her, and swung her arm out, snapping the sword back toward the tree while following with her hips. The sword struck the same spot again, and she smiled. She stepped back and moved through the blow over and over, until her arm ached with fatigue. She turned back to Fandral, and smiled in triumph.

“Good!” Fandral clapped. “I’m starved, let’s go find food.”

“You’ve been eating like Volstagg. Will you soon turn taciturn like Hogun, so I can enjoy all of the Warriors Three?” Eira sheathed her sword and strapped it to Fleygur. 

“And then I will steal your dress and you can enjoy Sif too.” He winked and mounted his horse.

Eira couldn’t help but laugh as she wrapped Leif up and placed him in his carry sling, hanging the basket off the saddle. Eira mounted Fleygur followed Fandral back to the palace.

XXX

Eira sat in the healing workroom, reading through a manuscript on meadow flowers. She sighed heavily, irritated by the obvious simplicity of the text. It was as though the Vanir healers were giving her training texts intended for children. This one in particular was truly infantile, focusing on short descriptions, as though it was for a child who could barely read. One of the healers, Soma, leaned in and flipped the book shut. She replaced it with a thicker tome. Eira could feel the latent magic rolling off the manuscript in waves. Without opening it, Eira knew she had passed some test and was finally being allowed the satisfaction of learning real healing from the Vanir. Eira met Soma’s eyes and cocked an eyebrow.

“And what is this?” She asked.

“Freya spoke to me of your incredible gift. She said you saved your companion, healed him from a blood curse.” It was a question.

“I needed Loki’s help, but yes. My healing magic, and his shadow magic broke the binding of the curse, so I was able to finish healing Fandral’s wounds.” Eira nodded.

“And they healed, after the curse was broken?” Soma persisted.

“It was more taxing on me than healing usually is, but I was still able to knit the wounds closed. There is no scarring.” Eira nodded.

“I’ve never seen such a thing. If we have any open wounds while you are still studying with us, can you demonstrate your gift?” Soma’s eyes met hers and Eira could see the desire to witness and learn there.

“Of course. It is a good power to harness. Do you not use healing spells?” Eira asked, pleased to know she would finally be getting answers.

“Nothing so advanced. I can heal illness with a word and well placed remedy, but I cannot knit tissues back together.” Soma admitted.

“I had not thought I was so unique.” Eira admitted, with some surprise. The Vanir were supposed to be the best healers in all the realms. If her talents exceeded theirs, she was more gifted than she realized.

“Valka said you asked her about Hothr’s Redemption when you first arrived. You could sense the secondary property for curing melancholy. We had only just discovered that.” Soma continued.

“I have so many questions about your plants, and thus far have been privy only to the most tertiary knowledge. They have a stronger magical current to them than most of the plants in Midgard, even if you have fewer with healing properties.” She pulled her book from her haversack and opened it to the daisy variant. “This has a sedative effect, it is the primary effect. Everything you’d shown me so far comments on the properties that cure stomach ailments, but nothing about sedation. Do you use it for that?”

Soma’s eyes widened in surprise and her brow furrowed. She picked up the flower that Eira has pressed between the vellum and looked carefully at it.

“No, I’ve never heard such a thing. That flower is a weak curative for stomachs. There’s no sedation to it.” She shook her head in emphasis.

“But there is!” Eira reached for a mortar and pestle and ground some of the petals. “It actually feels like it might be the same property that cures the stomach, just taken a different way. What I tasted is exactly as what I smell. Here, smell deeply.”

Eira pushed the mortar toward Soma, who took the bowl and lifted it. She inhaled, and swayed back, her eyes closing involuntarily. She shook her head and opened her eyes, staring at Eira in wonder. She put the bowl to her face again and took another deep breath, her eyes slipping shut again. Eira reached out to steady her.

“If the inhalation could be continual, if the bruised petals were in a mask, it could work for longer periods of time. It is something we should investigate.” Eira was excited by the discovery, as it was the first time she’d identified a healing property without knowing it was there. Previously she’d only looked into plants to confirm what she had already learned.

“This is remarkable, Eira. Can you do this with all plants?” Soma asked.

“I find it more difficult with the plants of Midgard. There is far less magic there, so it is harder to tease meaning from their flora. But I learned this as a child in Asgard. It was how my mother taught me. Tis the only magic she is capable of. She calls it plant-scrying.” Eira explained.

“Eira, I know we have frustrated you these weeks you have been here, as we protect our healing knowledge so closely. But we have worked so hard to gain our learning, and so we safeguard our secrets. The Vanir have an inborn ability to heal, to work with the elements and bring people back to health. You have shown patience with our ways, and willingness to learn as a child would. And now you have shown me something beyond anything I could imagine. I can cast healing spells, and spells of protection, but nothing like this.” Soma breathed. “Maybe you truly are a goddess, Eira.”

“I can teach you, Soma. You have such a remarkable cache of materials in Vanaheim, and the healers have natural talent. You should be using that to your advantage. The way I harness the magic of healing is merely different because I had to teach myself. Not having a teacher meant not having any constraints.” Eira offered. Soma nodded.

“I would like that, if it would not lengthen your stay. You should not be away from the prince for so long, it’s not healthy in such a new marriage.” Soma raised an eyebrow. Eira smiled.

“There is more to that story than I care to relate today, kennari. Another time. I will leave before Leif is in his eighth month. I agree that we are too long apart.”

“How long does that leave me to learn from you?” Soma asked.

“One more month. We have much to teach one another. Shall we start today?” Eira smiled. Soma nodded eagerly.

Eira began the lesson with plant-scrying, collecting a number of samples from a line of plants along the window of the workroom, and laying them out on the table. They discussed the uses the Vanir had for each plant in detail, which allowed Eira to augment her notes on the plants she had already studied. Fandral appeared early in the lesson, wanting to steal Eira away to swordwork, but she waved him away, excited by the prospect of finally getting somewhere with the Vanir healers. Sharing knowledge was much more exciting to her than just trying to take from them with nothing in return.

“We will start as my mother started with me. Take the plant into your hand. Allow the magic you use to heal to leech into the plant. This is better done with a freshly harvested specimen, but you can do it with those plants that have already been dried as well. It just takes a little more work.” Eira placed the leaves of a plant in Soma’s hand. “When you have cast into the plant completely, you want to draw that power back to you. What you will feel as the spell returns to you are the effects of the plant. When there are many different uses, you will feel all of them, if you are holding the entire plant, which can be overwhelming, like a blow to the senses, so it is better to take a piece at a time.”

“We use these leaves to combat festering wounds. So what would the effect feel like?” Soma looked confused.

“I find it feels cleansing. But that is why we start with plants with known properties. Each person will feel the effect differently, and it takes experience to identify those effects. But similar effects all feel the same.” Eira explained.

“And why am I using my healing spell to search out this effect?” Soma’s brow was furrowed, both in confusion and concentration.

“Because that is the magic that is strongest in you, so it will be the easiest for you to learn to manipulate.” Eira sat back on her chair and waited for Soma to cast. Soma took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Eira could feel the waves of magic rippling into the leaves before Soma allowed it to ebb back into her. She opened her eyes and looked down at the leaves.

“It is like they speak to me. I felt the prickle of new flesh forming.” She breathed. Eira nodded and handed her the flower of the same plant. “This flower has no use.”

“Try, Soma.” Eira urged her. Soma cast out the healing spell again, and again opened her eyes in wonder when the magic flowed back to her.

“That was busy, I couldn’t glean anything.” She shook her head, as though she needed to clear it.

“When an element has no healing property, there is an absence. I feel as though my mind has emptied, or I am staring at the sky on a cloudless day.” Eira offered.

“It felt very much like there was too much happening, like a feast with too much mead.” Soma countered.

“So that is how you will know there is nothing there.” Eira said. “Let us continue. I can hear Fandral pacing outside. When you feel confident, I will leave you to this, and we can continue in the morning.”

Eira worked with Soma through a half dozen plants, and as Soma became more comfortable, she began to glean additional glimmers of properties where there had previously been nothing written in the Vanir texts. Some of the uses she felt were more than Eira had been able to sense, and Eira was pleased to see the quick adoption of the ability. Assured that Soma was on the right path, Eira excused herself to spend the afternoon with Fandral. As she stepped out of the workroom, Fandral nearly pounced on her.

“I have word from Asgard, Eira.” He held up a letter, the seal of Odin already cracked open. Eira knew it would bear no good news. Eira walked quickly away from the building, toward the open garden, where she knew they would have some privacy. She settled herself on a bench at the far side, and began to organize herself to feed Leif. Fandral waited, as he always did, until Leif was settled to breast and then sat beside her.

“What does the Allfather write?” She finally asked, with a deep sigh.

“He says to tell you that Loki has deduced where we are, and that he would be very surprised if this letter got to us before Loki did. Loki has been mad with worry since we left, despite the Allfather’s assurances of your safety, and he has been searching the realms for you. He started with Midgard. For some reason he went next to Alfheim. But it wasn’t until Freya told him of seeing you that he considered Vanaheim.” Fandral skipped through parts of the letter. “He said he hopes we are able to manage Loki’s fury, and reassured me that Thor is yet unaware of your location.”

“Please assure me Thor has not also been looking.” Eira cringed. Fandral laughed.

“No, the Allfather assured me Thor has not bothered to look, as he is too busy sulking about losing to Loki in this contest.” He shook his head. Eira rolled her eyes.

“How was I so blind to this need to make me no more than a prize?” Eira complained.

“Thor takes up all the space in every room he enters. He knows all the right things to say to women. He collects accomplishments. I am afraid he learned some of this from me.” Fandral admitted.

“There are no tally marks in your sword hilt, Fandral.” Eira chastised him. “You may be controlled entirely by your passion, but you do not make women your prey.”

“No, because I love every woman I am with completely, with my whole heart, for the entire time I am with her.” He laughed.

“Please assure me that my wife is not counted in that statement.” Loki appeared in front of them, his lips a thin line, arms folded across his chest. Fandral looked up mildly, without surprise.

“Eira is safe from my advances, Loki. I love her completely, tis true. But my love for her is that of an affectionate brother. I assure you, with no guile.” Fandral rose and offered his arm to Loki with a warm smile. Loki looked at it warily, but grasped Fandral’s forearm in greeting. Fandral pulled him into a warm embrace, patting Loki heartily on the back. The tension melted out of Loki as Fandral held him close.

“It took you long enough.” He murmured quietly enough that only Loki could hear him.

“If you would leave us, Fandral.” Loki requested as he disengaged from Fandral’s arms. Fandral nodded and glanced back at Eira.

“I am sure you have much to catch up on, Eira. And I think the Allfather was concerned for naught.” He raised his eyebrows with meaning. Eira smiled.

“We will see you at the evening meal then, Fandral.” Eira agreed. Loki stood in front of her awkwardly as Fandral departed. When he was finally was out of their line of sight, Loki collapsed onto the bench beside Eira and pulled her and Leif into his arms.

“You have stolen years from my life, Eira.” He kissed her forehead and dissolved into tears, kissing every piece of bare skin he could find on both her and Leif. Relief poured off of him in waves, the power of it threatening to drown her. Her breath caught.

“Loki?” Eira was stunned into an inability to form words. She pulled him close with her free arm, and waited out the storm of his emotion.


	33. Chapter 33

Eira’s heart ached listening to Loki’s weeping. His shoulders shook, and his breath came in great gasps as he clung to her. His hands wound into the fabric of her tunic, balling the linen in his fists. She smoothed his hair, and soothed him, much as she soothed Leif when the babe became inconsolable. Tears filled Eira’s eyes, despite her want to stay strong in the moment, and she sniffed to try to hold them at bay. Leif, who had so recently become filled with the noise of a baby learning his voice, was wide-eyed silence, so startled by the noise and movement of Loki to do anything other than stare in wonder. He suddenly reached out his tiny fist and touched the back of Loki’s hand, causing Loki to still. 

She would feel him fighting to regain control, and allowed a calming spell to roll through her fingers as she ran them through his hair. His breathing slowed, and became even, and he slowly lifted his head to look on Leif. He reached out and cupped Leif’s face in his hand, wonder washing the anguish from his face.

“He has grown so much.” Loki’s voice was barely a whisper. Leif grabbed one of Loki’s fingers and waved his arm. Loki smiled, and settled into an upright position beside Eira. Eira brought Leif across her and allowed Loki to take him into his arms. Leif abandoned the finger to use both his hands to explore Loki’s face.

“We have missed you.” Eira ran a hand down Loki’s leg, and squeezed his knee. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head.

“Truly? Then why did you run?” He asked.

“I needed to be away from you, and Thor so I could sort out my feelings, and understand what I needed to do.” Eira admitted. 

“And not trusting that I could accept that was a good idea?” His voice became cold again.

“Loki, tell me truthfully that you were not so consumed by jealousy that you were already beginning to resent me.” Eira implored. “You needed this separation as much as I did. I can see it hurt you more, and I regret that, but I had to leave. I had to be beyond your influence, and beyond Thor’s, so I could know my heart.” 

Loki shook his head, and then pressed his lips to Leif’s forehead.

“You took my son away from me.” The tension in his words was palpable.

“A son you knew was yours but never acknowledged until he was born. Loki, don’t play the lover wronged, when so much of this lies heavy on your shoulders. I left so that I could find peace. Peace in forgiving you, peace in allowing myself to love you.” Eira tried to keep the tone of her words gentle.

“And have you found the peace you sought?” He pried. Eira smiled and nodded. 

“Yes, it has been hard fought, but I have.”  
“And you,” He paused, “you love me?”

Eira looked down at the ground, and bit her lip. She closed her eyes, and took a deep, strengthening breath. She turned to face Loki on the bench, deliberately looking him in the eye.

“I have wanted to hate you. I had thought I would be consumed by your betrayal. When I got here, among the healers, and the abundant magic, and all the distractions those entailed, I found I had no hate in my heart. For all I wanted to consign you to the coldest reaches of Helheim, I could not. Because the illusions had been wiped away. And I saw every moment with you in my memory. Even those moments you sought to attribute to your brother. And every swelling in my heart, every quickening of my pulse, every time I fought to control my own passions, there was you. I do love you, Loki. I fear my love for you.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and Loki reached over and thumbed it away. 

“You love me?” He was incredulous.

“I love you, Loki.” Eira nodded. Loki shifted Leif to his far arm and pulled Eira close. When his lips met hers, Eira couldn’t catch her breath. She pulled away for long enough to lift Leif from his arms and deposit him on his blanket with a wooden horse toy before pulling his face back to hers and losing herself in his kiss. Loki threaded his hand into her hair, tugging roughly and tipping her neck. He dragged his lips along her jaw and down her neck before taking her mouth again. He broke away from her suddenly, his breathing laboured.

“We must wait.” He breathed. Eira’s brows drew together in confusion.

“We are already bonded, Loki.” She argued.

“I would do this right. You are to be a princess, my princess. I have done so much wrong. Please let us wait. We will return to Asgard, have the wedding my mother so desperately wants. And then, we will have a wedding night.” He implored her. Eira sat back, very nearly astonished.

“If that is what you wish, I will agree to it. I have promised to stay here another month though. Would you stay, or will you go home to begin preparations?” She asked. His lips met hers again and she could tell he was fighting his resolve.

“If you would allow me, I will stay. I’ve no wish to be apart from you, or my son, again.” He rose from the bench and scooped Leif up. Eira thought the change must have been amazing to Loki, having been apart for more than three months. Leif had been a quiet, sleepy lump, just starting to notice the world around him when she had left for Vanaheim. In their time away, he had blossomed into a sweet, happy baby, engaging with everything around him. He smiled broadly at Loki and patted his father’s face. Eira’s eyes filled, unbidden, and she felt a wave of guilt for keeping father and son apart.

“He recognizes you.” She smiled.

“I doubt that.” Loki laughed, “He’s just happy that someone wants to see him.”

“Loki, he makes strange with everyone new. He knows you.” Eira argued. Loki puffed up a little at the comment, and brought Leif to his face to kiss him. 

“Then you are even smarter than I imagined, sweet boy.” He smiled and rubbed his nose against Leif’s. The baby let out a peal of laughter and twined his small hands in Loki’s hair, tugging and squealing. Eira leaped up to help disentangle him.

“We should head back to the palace, Loki. The feast will be soon, and doubtless there will be much excitement with the prince of Asgard in attendance.” Eira suggested.

“No more than should already be occurring with a princess of Asgard attending.” He responded. Eira shook her head.

“I am not a princess, Loki.”

“In all but name, you are. You are my wife. There may not have been grand feasting, or words spoken in front of thousands, but you are my wife. And that makes you a princess. And our son a prince. Have they not been treating you thus?” He argued, looking stern.

“They respect my station as a great healer, and they give respect to me as a lady of the Aesir court. I would not have dared ask they make special preparations for me as a princess.” Eira chastised. Loki shook his head and looked at the sky.

“You are too humble by far, and could have asked for more. How many of them know you are also a Valkyrie?” Loki pressed.

“None, but Freya when she was here.” Eira answered, “Loki, don’t make this into an incident. I did not seek reverence, and I do not want it. I came here a student, and have been given much better treatment than a student should have.”

Loki set his mouth and looked back to Leif, cooing at him instead of responding.

XXX

The palace was alive with activity when they returned. Loki’s arrival in Vanaheim had already been noted, and as Eira had suspected, there were frantic preparations for a welcoming feast. Loki tried to assure Freyr that the fuss was not necessary, but he would not hear of it.

“I have also ordered the servants to move your family into a more accommodating suite.” Freyr insisted. Loki shook his head.

“This is unnecessary. We can easily share whatever rooms have been given Eira.” He protested.

“Certainly not. Eira requested scholar’s chambers when she arrived, but they are not large enough for a family.” Freyr refused.

“Were Eira and Leif not a family themselves?” Loki asked. Freyr smirked.

“Perhaps, Loki, but Eira had no need for a marriage bed when it was just her and the babe. You are not a small man, but even if you were, you would not fit comfortably in the bed Eira’s been using.” He got the last word. Loki nodded.

“I see. Then I will acquiesce.”

“I’ll have someone lead you to your suite.” Freyr waved a servant over. 

The suite was enormous and, to Eira’s thinking, ostentatious. There was a large bedroom, the walls so far apart that it made the massive bed at the centre of the room look smaller than the tiny scholar’s bed she’d been curling up on for months. There was a set of doors leading out onto a balcony overlooking an opulent garden on one side of the room, and a pair of arches on the adjacent walls. When Eira walked through to find out what else they could have possibly needed more rooms for, she found a large bathing chamber through one archway, and a nursery with an ornate cradle through the other. Eira and Leif’s things had been moved, and Loki’s belongings arrived soon after they had been escorted to the suite. Before the main sleeping chamber, there was a sitting room, with lavish cushioned furnishings that staggered Eira’s mind. She sank into one of the couches with an overwhelmed sigh.

Loki laughed at her, and took Leif from her arms. He disappeared into the nursery and after a few minutes returned without the baby. His fingers slipped between hers as he settled into the cushions beside her.

“Oh, Loki, you needn’t have put him down. He would have needed changing and –“ Eira began to rise. Loki pulled her back to sitting.

“I have changed him. I gave him a teething root, and he is contentedly exploring his new bed.” He interrupted. “Sit with me. Something disturbs you. Speak of it that I may allay your concerns.”

Eira’s eyes flicked toward the door to the sleeping chamber and she quickly glanced away, a flush climbing her neck.

“The marriage bed.” She mumbled. Loki laughed and kissed the back of her hand.

“Do you think I am an untried youth, that I would be unable to share a bed with you without ravishing you? If these past months taught me nothing, they taught me patience. I know you may not think it, but I do have some self-control.” He assured her. Eira met his eyes and raised an eyebrow.

“And if it is not you I am worried about?” She teased. He laughed again and kissed her forehead.

“You may be a Valkyrie, but I am the better sorcerer. I will defend my virtue from your nefarious appetites.”


	34. Chapter 34

Loki and Eira entered the feast hall, and everyone rose, and bowed, as they made their way to the head table. Eira had never felt so uncomfortable. The silence that followed through the room as they moved across it was unsettling in the extreme, and Eira felt a little panicky. Loki patted her arm in reassurance.

“This will be over as soon as we are seated, Love.” His voice was calm.

“They will still be looking at us.” Eira whispered back. Loki leaned close as though he meant to kiss her cheek.

“They will go back to eating and drinking, and no one will care what the head table does.” He whispered, his lips soft against her ear. Eira shivered and held her head high, forcing a serene smile to her face.

“I will hold you to this.” She whispered back as they reached the platform of the head table. They both bowed to Freyr and awaited his invite to the table. He gestured to the empty seats on his right. Loki led Eira to her seat and assisted her to sit.

True to his word, after the initial flurry of interest, the revelers became more interested in their meals and mead, and it was not long until there were no longer eyes upon them. Eira remained unsettled by the attention. For months, she had been arriving at her honoured place at the head table without ceremony, and she felt ill suited for the pomp that had gone with their entry. Her tension must have been palpable, as Leif was fussy in her arms. Loki reached over and lifted the boy onto his lap.

“Drink some mead, relax. We can excuse ourselves as soon as the meal is over. No one will question it, after we have been apart so long.” He squeezed her knee. Eira forced a smile, which turned genuine as Fandral approached the table.

“I trust you are content with the care I’ve given your wife, my prince, now that you have had some time alone?” He bowed low and winked at Eira as he stood back up. Loki laughed, and it was the most genuine laugh Eira had heard from him in ages. Despite the sense that she’d always had of Loki being an outsider, the friendship between Fandral and him was real, and mutual.

“She is no worse for having been in your company. She must truly be a goddess to be unmarred by your association.” Loki teased in return. Fandral held a hand to his heart in mock offense.

“You wound me to the very core, Loki. Shall I recount all the women I have missed out on due to my resolve to be the favoured uncle to your son? I am practically a new man!” Fandral laughed.

“New perhaps, but not untried. After centuries of wanton pursuits, you’ll never be pure again.” Loki’s chuckle brought a happy smile to Eira’s face.

“Ah, you’ve been my brother-in-arms so frequently, Loki, there is no fooling you.” Fandral admitted, and his demeanour sobered. “Still, I would assure you, I took to my duties in caring for Eira and Leif in earnest, and they never were in harm’s way.”

“I would not have expected anything less, my friend.” Loki smiled. “I know your fondness for Eira lies partly in your gratitude for her healing. Once I knew it was you who’s accompanied her, I was sure of her safety, at least.”

“And yet you still feared I would seduce her, did you not?” Fandral raised an eyebrow. To his credit, Loki blushed.

“And why would I not? You are a strong, virile man, with a legacy of amorous adventures, who clearly loves my wife. I was hopeful that your affection was as you claim it was, but I would have been foolhardy to assume so.” Loki admitted. 

“To be fair, had it not been for her obvious affection for you, I would have likely done exactly as you feared. But even the god of mischief deserves to win the game every so often.” Fandral teased. Eira rolled her eyes.

“What he does not mention, Loki, is that he would not have been successful in seducing me, as he is currently in thrall to a different Valkyrie.” She laughed. Loki’s grin widened.

“Does she tame him?” He asked, absolute delight flashing across his face. Eira smiled coyly.

“He says no. But I know Kara. I think he is fonder than he allows.” She responded. Fandral began to redden.

“I believe my tankard needs filling. If you’ll excuse me, Highness.” He sputtered and fled from the table. Eira and Loki both laughed as he turned his back to them.

“Kara is the picture of him in matters of the heart. I don’t know that anyone has ever had the upper hand with Fandral, but Kara certainly does right now.” Eira explained. Loki smiled.

“No, Fandral is always the one who begins and ends things. He must be at loose ends. Perhaps it is dangerous to love a Valkyrie.” He said.

“Yes, we might lead you to your deaths.” Eira’s tone was wry. Loki’s head snapped over to look at her.

“You heard Sif that night?” He asked. Eira nodded.

“I did. It struck me ironic that she could say such a thing, not knowing I was one of the twelve.” 

“She knew not of what she spoke. She was jealous, as she always is when a woman catches Thor’s attention.” Loki dismissed.

“She loves him very much. How does he not see it?”

“He sees it. He chooses not to comprehend it. Look at how well suited they are to each other. To admit that to himself would be to admit he is ready for all this.” Loki gestured to Leif, and their place at the table, and finally to her. “He is not ready for a life less exciting.”

“With Sif by his side, I can hardly see this as what his life would be.” Eira admitted.

“Nevertheless, it’s what he fears. Whenever you doubt that Thor had affection for you, Eira, consider that he was willing to settle into the more ordinary life for you. He may not have loved you. But he certainly was fond of you.” Loki confessed. Eira smiled and took Loki’s hand in hers.

“How confident you have become that you could admit that to me.” She leaned over and kissed him, her lips soft on his. He tipped his chin forward, catching her close for a deeper kiss. Eira dropped her hand on his chest, her heart racing. Leif let out a peal of rage, and they sprang apart.

“I will take him and settle him abed.” Eira lifted the baby from Loki’s arms, and curtseyed at Freyr. Loki rose and kissed her cheek.

“I will be along presently.” 

XXX

Leif was resisting sleep, fussing and carrying on, not wanting to settle. Eira suspected it was probably the new room and unfamiliar bed, so she settled into the chair beside the cradle and rocked him in her arms until he began to settle. She softly sang a lullaby she remembered her father singing to her. Leif slowed, and his fingers found their way into his mouth. His eyelids began to droop. Eira trailed off, and Leif’s eyes slowly opened, engaging her almost as though he was chastising her for ceasing the song. She took up where she left off, and as he settled, rose and walked about the room. Loki’s rich tenor joined her as she sang, and it was all she could do to not drop from surprise. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning his head over her shoulder. It was so intimate and natural that Eira got chills.

When she was sure Leif was asleep, she laid him in the cradle, and covered him with a blanket. Loki took her hand and led her from the nursery and into the sitting room, where he pulled her down into his lap on the soft couch. His hand ran up her side, and he nestled his face at the crook of her neck, showering kisses from her ear to collarbone. Eira relaxed into his chest with a soft sigh, tangling her fingers in his hair. She slid her fingers along his jaw, pulling his face to meet hers, and rested her forehead against his wordlessly, their noses touching. 

A slight tilt of his head, and Loki was kissing her again, his lips gently tangling with her own. His tongue slid along her lower lip, tracing along her teeth. Eira made a soft whimper of surrender and Loki slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her closer, the stubble on his upper lip rubbing hers raw. Eira pushed away, breathing heavy.

“Loki, you said you wanted to wait.” It was a question. Loki pulled her back, his mouth bruising against hers, before dropping his hand from her neck.

“And I do. But the memory of honey was strong in my mind after the mead tonight. I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry, love, but I am only a man.”

“You’re a god, Loki. And this is your signature work, bringing mischief.” Eira pushed him back on the cushions and pressed her mouth against his, sliding her hand under his tunic. He groaned and tried to shift her off his lap, but Eira’s strength from training with Fandral was evident, and she had the upper hand. She smiled against his open mouth and slipped off his lap with a laugh.

“Are you trying to earn title as the goddess?” Loki was flushed.

“Two can play at your games.” Eira winked and rose from the couch. “Now, if you truly think you have self-control, I am going to bathe and go to bed. Goodnight, my husband.”

She leaned down and brushed her lips against his before retiring to the bathing room and calling for a bath.

Loki was already asleep when Eira emerged from the bath. She slipped between the sheets, pulled the covers up to her neck, and rolled onto her side, away from him. As she was dropping to sleep, she felt Loki slip up to her back, pressing his cool body against hers, and dropping an arm across her waist. He kissed her shoulder and laid his head against the pillow.


	35. Chapter 35

When Eira arrived at the healing workshop, she discovered that Soma had assembled a number of healers to learn from her. Soma had prepared the room with all the same plants that Eira had gathered previously, and had placed a number of plants she’d never seen before at one end of the table. It was an unsettling sight, considering that she had come to Vanaheim to learn from them.

“Eira, I’ve laid out the plants I worked on, and I’ve placed a few you’ve yet to see out. Some of the other healers are skeptical of your abilities, and would like you to prove yourself before we begin. I apologize.” Soma bowed her head, clearly uncertain of how to address Eira now that Loki was on Vanaheim as well. It was as though his arrival reinforced the status they had all been happy to ignore.

“There is no need to apologize, Soma. This is a completely foreign skill, and one no one here has seen. It is understandable that they would seek evidence of my abilities. I do not mind.” Eira placed her hand on Soma’s to ease her concern. Soma smiled and led her to the head of the table, and presented the plants to her.

“This is one, with the yellow spherical flower is meadowspray. The trailing purple flowers are Freya’s vine, this flower with the large bulb is called Bilgesnipe Bait and this last white spray is called Valkyrie’s Contempt.” Soma pointed to each plant as she named them. Eira laughed with the last one.

“Why Valkyrie’s Contempt?” She smothered the urge to continue giggling. Soma flushed, and shook her head.

“You’ll know soon enough.” She said.

“Oh, I’m going to scry this one first then!” Eira sat on the stool and lifted the plant into her hand. She let her magic flow from her palm up into the roots of the plant, and then course through the short stem and into the large spray of tiny white flowers. A riot of properties flooded her, all of them healing. She shook her head and put the plant down, reaching for the mortar and pestle. After plucking a flower, and bruising the petals, she held it to her nose and inhaled. 

“The flower’s primary property is to remove festering from wounds. I don’t think a Valkyrie would be contemptuous of that.” Eira ground the flower in the mortar and held her hand over the bowl. She closed her eyes and waited for the flower to talk to her. “The secondary use is to ease pain. Again, no reason for a Valkyrie to feel contempt.”

Eira cleared the mortar and pulled a number of leaves from the plant. Leaves were more difficult for her to divine based on scent, so she went directly to grinding them in the mortar. She dropped the tips of her fingers into the bruised leaves and juice and was very nearly shocked by the response.

“Oh, the leaves combat death. That’s interesting. They staunch bleeding very quickly, and absorb toxins? That would be helpful when healing wounds in the gut. And could very easily thwart a Valkyrie from taking a warrior to Valhalla. Now what does the root do?” Eira asked, not expecting an answer.

“Oh, it does nothing.” Soma responded. Eira shook the dirt off the web of fine roots and rubbed a cluster of them between her fingers.

“Oh no. These roots can be used. I would think in an unguent. It has a property of relaxation and reduction of swelling, that would be well for sore and aching muscles.” Eira contradicted. A gasp sounded from the other healers, almost in unison.

“No, we do not use the root.” One of them said.

“You may not. But I would submit that you can, and should. Make a salve, of tallow and wax, and using a decoction of the root.” Eira suggested. She put the plant down and moved to the Bilgesnipe Bait. She held the root ball in her hand for a moment and nodded.

“It is very sweet to eat, but I think rather poisonous. And when a plant creates a toxin in the root, none of the rest of the plant is safe for use. Except maybe for creating poisons. Good for arrow tips.” She looked at Soma, who nodded without saying a word.

“You must show us how you do this.” One of the healers spoke suddenly. “I do not need you to continue showing this skill, just teach it.”

Eira looked at Soma again for guidance.

“If you are satisfied that this plant-scrying does have merit, we can move on.” Soma agreed. Eira waited for the group of healers to agree, and then began teaching them in the same manner she’d taught Soma. When they were working on their casting, she sat back down on the stool and watched. Soma brought a stool over and sat with her.

“I have been trying to think of what plants I can send with you. I had hoped for more time with you, Eira, but I suspect your prince is anxious to return to Asgard.” She offered. Eira smiled.

“He knows that I would complete my studies. I have much to learn here.”

“Truly you don’t, Eira. You have plantlore to learn, but there is naught else that we can teach you.” Soma argued.

“But the plants are here, Soma.” Eira protested.

“I can make a parcel of the most used plants for you to study. And when you are done studying them, I can bring you another parcel. But Eira, your talent lies far beyond what we have here. Tis no small wonder they call you a goddess.” Soma smiled. Eira shook her head.

“Loki has no plans to rush me along. He has helped me harness my magic, and is no poor healer himself, although his true talent lies in other areas. I can stay until I’d intended to leave.” She insisted. “He is anxious for a wedding, but I think it is the acknowledgement that he seeks, as we are already bound.”   
Soma laughed, startling a number of the healers who were intent on plant-scrying.

“Or he is anxious for a wedding night.” She laughed, all practicality. Eira flushed.

“We already have a child, Soma. The wedding night has been had.” She could feel the heat rushing through her cheeks. Soma shook her head.

“No, dear. You haven’t had a wedding night until your husband looks on you in your binding gown, and truly understands your beauty. And you are a great beauty, Eira. He will have his breath stolen.” She patted Eira’s knee warmly.

“I’m no great beauty, Soma.”

“Maybe not by Aesir standards? But here, Eira, you’ve done nothing but turn heads. Your unnatural height, and that hair like a rusty swordblade. You are different, and striking, and that makes Vanir men take notice. But perhaps you are wrong about the Aesir men, you did win the hand of a prince.” Soma pointed out. Eira smirked.

“Your flattery, Soma, it’s enough to make me want to stay in Vanaheim for always. Are the men so charming? I could stand to hear more about my unnatural height and rusty hair.” Eira teased. Soma blushed.

“I am not a woman of poetry, and my descriptions are plain, Eira. But those traits you see as unattractive are those I know have been spoken of at court that make you striking. And a striking woman is a beautiful one.”

“Then I shall tell Loki he is a lucky man to have both a smart and beautiful wife.” Eira laughed. Soma swatted her shoulder and shook her head.

“Eira?” One of the healers called. “I cannot deduce anything from these plants.”

Eira rose and approached the young woman. She touched her forehead and cast inside her head gently, to ensure there was some magic ability in the girl. Convinced there was no reason for the healer to be struggling, she pulled a stool close, and sat.

“Your name?” Eira asked

“Thyri.” The woman responded. 

“Thyri, can you pick up the silverweed?” Eira asked and took Thyri’s hands in her own once the plant was in her hands.

“This is for festering wounds, Eira.”

“Yes, and you know the use, so now you need to know what that feels like. Have you cast any healing spells before?” Eira asked. Thyri nodded.

“I can heal minor scrapes, rashes.” She admitted.

“Good, so you know how to cast your magic out. Cast it out into the plant, just as though you were going to heal a rash.” Eira allowed some of her magic to flow into Thyri’s hands as she cast her spell. It was quite weak. With practice, Eira suspected it could be a much strong spell, but that was for another time, and a better teacher.

“And then?” Thyri’s magic was nearly spent with the one small spell.

“Now call the spell back.” Eira prompted. Thyri looked at her in confusion.

“I’ve never learned that.”

“How can you not have learned that? Tis one of the most important lessons in casting. The ability to withdraw your magic is critically important.” Eira was astonished.

“I’ve never had need to. My healing spell is so weak.” Thyri protested. Eira shook her head.

“Can you feel the edge of the spell? It should feel warmer than anything around it.” She prompted. Thyri nodded. “Now use your mind to visualize pulling it back. Build a picture in your head, of what that spell looks like, and then use whatever you can imagine to bring it back. When I learned to do this, I used to think that the spell was a sail, and I would drop the sail to bring the spell back.”

“If I imagine it a sword, would sheathing it work?” Thyri asked, her eyes wide.

“Try.” Eira ordered. She felt Thyri struggle to pull the spell back to her, but she did eventually manage it. 

“I taste soap.” Thyri’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“That is likely how you sense cleansing, then, Thyri. Let’s practice a few more times, with different plants.” Eira reached for a different plant to put in Thyri’s hands before cupping her hands under Thyri’s again. Thyri closed her eyes to cast into the plant again, but Eira could tell she had taxed her magic almost to the edge of viability with the first spell. Again, Eira pushed some of her own magic into Thyri’s hands, allowing the spell to ooze sluggishly into the plant. When Thyri attempted to pull the spell back, it snapped back to her quickly, surprising both of them.

“What was that?” Thyri’s eye’s popped open in surprise. Eira moved her hands away from Thyri’s and stretched her fingers, listening to them crack.

“I gave your spell a prompt. It may have been too much.” She admitted. “I have only just been able to harness my magic to greater effect over the last year or so, Thyri. It is not a talent that comes unbidden; it must be worked to strengthen it. I found Loki a great help and teacher. I will ask if he will come tomorrow and help heighten your abilities.”

“That would be wonderful. I’ve always been the weakest of us.” Thyri admitted.

“And yet you use healing magic, which Soma had led me to believe was uncommon.” Eira countered.

“I suppose I wanted to try it?” She shrugged. Eira laughed.

“As good a reason as any. I will tell Loki you need assistance tomorrow. While I work with the other healers, I will see if he can help you bridle what power you have.” Eira concluded, happy to have solved another issue. She wondered if she was going to get any other learning in on her own.

“Are you really a goddess, Eira?” Thyri asked. Eira laughed.

“We are all gods and goddesses to the people of Midgard.” She dismissed.

“Freya says they pray to you. Sometimes so loudly it drowns the cries of the men she is to carry.” Thyri argued.

“They do pray to me. Because I am the only Aesir who has ever healed them.” Eira shrugged. “They would pray to anyone who could heal with more skill than their healers. Just as they revere Thor for bringing lightning and thunder, or Sif for her amazing prowess in battle.”

“Why were you on Midgard to heal them?” Thyri’s confused look returned. Eira bit her lip, not wanting to expose herself as a Valkyrie.

“Odin was indulging my desire to research Midgard’s healing plants, and I happened across an injured man after a war.” She decided a vague falsehood was better than an elaborate lie.

“Have you seen the Valkyries? How does Freya know you?” Thyri continued, eager and excited like she hadn’t been about healing.

“You seem recovered. Should we try another plant?” Eira distracted her. Thyri wrinkled her face in distaste again, and Eira reassessed her age as younger than she’d initially thought. Young enough that romance and intrigue and off-world tales of adventure were more interesting than healing lessons. Eira covertly cast a focus spell on the woman and continued to teach her.


	36. Chapter 36

“Loki, she needs help. The healers here don’t cast, and she has managed to learn something on her own. She needs someone to show her how to bridle her power.” Eira implored. “You helped me.”

“I helped you because I was in love with you. I wouldn’t know her from a rock. What benefit is there to teaching her?” Loki argued. “I’d rather spend the day with Leif. He almost crawls.”

“Just the morning?” Eira tilted her head in question. Loki sighed, and jiggled Leif on his lap until the baby started to giggle.

“Fine. Just the morning. But this afternoon we are both taking our leave of the healers. I would spend some time alone with you and Leif.” He agreed. Eira squeaked in delight and kissed him quickly.

“Thank you! She is quite young, and easily distracted. A focus spell should help.” She scooped Leif from Loki’s arms. “Should we go find Fandral, sweet boy? Yes we should!”

Leif gurgled happily and Loki rolled his eyes. He collected Eira’s haversack and followed her down the hall to Fandral’s rooms where they deposited Leif. To his credit, Fandral was thrilled to watch the baby for the morning.

XXX

Loki’s brow set in a frustrated line as they walked the short distance to the healing workshop. Eira slipped her hand into his and tried to tease away the frown with idle chatter, but something was on his mind.

“Tell me what is vexing you.” Eira stopped and turned to face him.

“It is nothing.” Loki dismissed

“It is something. Your scowl and furrowed brow are enough to scare away the most valiant warrior.” Eira pressured. Loki set his mouth and expelled a heavy breath.

“I cannot put my finger on it, Eira. I have discontent.” He shrugged.

“With me? If you truly don’t want to help Thyri, I will explain, and spend time with her.” Eira offered. Loki squeezed her hand and his brow relaxed a little.

“Not you, love. I will teach the girl because my beloved asks it.” He kissed her softly, ending her concern.

Thyri was waiting at the back of the workshop when they arrived, and Eira excused them both to talk to her before she started with the other healers. Thyri looked up at their approach and smiled broadly at Loki.

“Your Highness. Such an honour to learn from you today.” She bowed. Eira’s eyes narrowed. The girl was dressed in her finest tunic, with a highly embellished hangarok over it. Her hair was neatly combed and flowing down her back, gleaming and golden. She had clearly taken her time with her appearance. 

“Don’t you look lovely today, Thyri.” Eira commented. Thyri flushed and looked down at the floor.

“Well, I knew I wouldn’t be getting dirty from compounding. It’s so rarely I get to dress in my finest.” She excused. Eira fought the urge to roll her eyes. Loki smiled at her.

“You are right, Thyri. There will be nothing to mess your clothes today.” His tone was indulgent, like he was speaking to a small child. Eira was somewhat mollified, but she still let out a huff of air, not hiding her displeasure. Loki turned and kissed her. 

“Jealousy does not become you, wife.” He whispered as their lips separated. Eira spun on her heel and stalked back to the rest of the healers. It was easy to pick up where they had left off the previous day, as a number of the healers had spent the evening practicing and were prepared for the day with plenty of questions. It became quite apparent that they were quick to pick up the skill, and soon were wanting to scry plants to see if there was anything they had previously missed while they still had Eira to confirm their findings. The morning passed pleasantly and quickly as a result, and Eira found herself hastily making notes in her book, appending old entries and making new ones.

Eira was packing up her haversack, ready to track down Loki and Thyri when Fandral entered with Leif. Leif lit up on spying his mother, arms flapping with excitement. Eira took the boy into her arms and smiled at Fandral.

“You are a good and kind uncle. He seems well, why did you come?” She questioned, giving Leif a quick inspection. Fandral laughed and shook his head.

“Loki asked me to bring him at lunch so you would not be sidetracked by your promise to leave with him.” He grinned. Eira shook her head in amusement and walked with Fandral back to the doors outside. She’s seen Loki take Thyri out earlier in the morning when the girl proved too easily distracted by the rest of them to concentrate. The rounded the corner to the healing garden and Eira gasped.

Thyri was standing in the circle of Loki’s arms, head tilted up, kissing him. Eira passed Leif back to Fandral and stormed over, pulling them apart. Loki opened his eyes, and a wry smirk spread across his traitorous lips. Eira set her jaw and slapped him with all the power she could muster and then turned to Thyri.

“Loki is not yours for seducing. Make haste to be out of my sight before I turn my rage on you.” She spat. Thyri’s eyes widened and she bolted past Fandral toward the healing workshop. Eira turned back to Loki, and narrowed her eyes. She had, without realizing, pulled her harvesting dagger from its sheath and was holding it low, shoulders squared.

“I said earlier, wife, jealousy doesn’t become you.” Loki commented blandly.

“Would you have me believe that was nothing then? Do you think me a fool?” Her voice was low and kept cracking. She fought the tears that threatened to overflow her eyes. Loki shook his head.

“Had you been watching you would have seen her kissing me, not the other way around.” He excused.

“You allowed it, Loki. You made no effort to break away, not even once you knew I had seen you.”

“Twas just a kiss, Eira.” He tried to make light of it. Eira’s eyes widened, and she sheathed her dagger. Rolling back on her heels as if she had relaxed completely she looked at him, calculating his own response.

“Oh, well. If that’s the case.” She turned and walked over to Fandral, who looked at her warily. She took Leif from him with one arm, and with her free arm, snaked it around his neck and pulled him down to her, kissing him soundly. Fandral stiffened, and then, as Eira continued pressing her mouth against his, relaxed and pulled her close, deepening the kiss. Eira was breathless when Loki pulled them apart. He balled his fist and punched Fandral in the jaw.

“My apologies, Loki. That was worth your fist.” Fandral shrugged and rubbed his jaw.

“I thought you saw her as a sister.” Loki ground out.

“Well, she’d never kissed me before, Loki.” Fandral admitted, and turned to leave the garden. “I will leave you to sort your mess out, shall I?”

Eira was seething. She turned away from Loki and started to leave the garden as well, but he caught her by the shoulder and spun her around. She shrugged out of his grip and turned away again.

“No, Eira, you don’t get to run away from me again!” He exclaimed and grabbed her arm, harder this time. Eira pulled away and smacked him across the face, so angry she couldn’t think of anything else she could do to make her point.

“And you do not get to mistreat me like I’m unruly livestock! Do not touch me, Loki, until I ask you to.” She backed away, putting some distance between them.

“Then stop running from me and listen to me.” He snapped.

“Why should I? You kissed her! And then you tried to tell me she was kissing you!” Eira pursed her lips as the tears she’d managed to keep at bay started to drop. She whirled away from him hoping he wouldn’t notice. Leif reached up and patted her face, smearing the wetness over her cheeks. She crumpled to the ground, rocking him, trying to fight the sobs that she knew wanted to accompany the tears. Loki crossed the garden soundlessly, and knelt behind her, smoothing her hair. He gathered her into his arms.

“I am again a fool, Eira.” He murmured. A sob broke free, and her shoulders shook. Eira tried to take a deep calming breath, and just gasped and sobbed harder, startling Leif into tears of his own. Loki carefully extracted the baby from Eira’s arms, and soothed him while holding Eira with his free arm. It was awkward, and Eira drew no comfort from his attempt to soothe her, or from the position she was kneeling in. She drew in another ragged breath and dragged her fists across her cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“How can I ever trust you, Loki?” She moved away from him, and drew Leif back into her arms from his.

“It was one kiss, Eira!” He protested. Eira shook her head.

“It’s more than that, Loki. It is practiced deception. You allowed her to kiss her, you even responded to it.” Eira fought to keep her voice even.

“She is little more than a child with a crush.” Loki brushed it off.

“Loki! That is not the point!” She exclaimed. “How do I know that if other women present themselves you won’t allow a further level of intimacy?”

“I will not betray you again, Eira. I’ve already promised that once.” He implored her.

“And yet here we are. Loki, go back to Asgard.” Eira gave up.

“I will not leave without you and my son.” He reached for her and she recoiled.

“I cannot see you right now. My heart is aching and looking at you tears it anew.” She rose and turned away. Loki scrambled closer to her before she was able to leave. He put a hand on her shoulder.

“Then do not look on me, but hear me. Eira, I love you. I forget my purpose in this world when I look on you. I want to be the better man.” He started. Eira stiffened. “But I am just a man, and a desperately flawed man at that.”

“And the god of mischief.” She mumbled. Loki let out a soft, scornful laugh.

“Yes, and that.” He admitted. “Please, Eira.”

Eira’s shoulders slumped, exhausted by the turmoil in her soul.

“Have there been others?” She asked, her voice devoid of emotion. Loki said nothing, but slipped his arms around her waist and placed his chin on her shoulder.

“No, Eira. Not since you.” She felt the hum of his deep voice in her back.

“Except for Thyri.” She pointed out. Loki sighed.

“Yes.”

“I am exhausted. And hungry. Let us return to the palace and prepare to return to Asgard.” Eira adjusted Leif on her hip and started out of the garden, knowing Loki was following.


	37. Chapter 37

On their return to the palace, Eira sent word back to the healing workshop that she would be leaving in the morning. She was embarrassed and humbled that she had not thought to do so before they had left the garden. She set Leif down to roam their rooms, and he crawled about, eager to explore every corner and every curtain. While Leif was discovering his new world, Eira began packing the trunk she had brought with her, carefully folding her garments and stowing her books. She extracted a heavy roll of waxed linen and dropped it on the bed, determined to go harvest a number of Vanir plants before the sunset.

Loki was conspicuously absent. Eira didn’t mind. She clenched a fist into the tunic she was trying to fold, attempting to banish the vision of he and Thyri’s kiss to no avail. She wanted to throw something, but was too concerned on Leif’s safety to do so. She threw herself down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, closing her eyes and slowing her breathing, hoping she would regain her calm.

“Eira, we must have words.” Loki’s voice startled her. She opened her eyes and looked toward the entry to the room. He was leaning in the doorway, looking disheveled. His tunic was open at the collar, and the deep keyhole draped wide across his chest, revealing his smooth musculature. Eira’s breath caught and she instantly felt the pull of attraction. She closed her eyes to remind herself she was angry with him. She could hear him approach the bed, and felt the mattress sag against his weight when he lay down beside her.

“Loki –“

“Please, let me just say what I need to say.” He interrupted. “I love you, and I will have us properly wed. But only if that is what you want, Eira.”

“I am feeling very roughly treated by Odin’s sons right now, Loki.” Eira admitted. Loki’s hand found hers and he laced his fingers between hers.

“Neither of us deserve you.” He agreed.

“Why did you let her kiss you?” Eira regretted asking as soon as the words left her mouth.

“She wanted me for me.” They were simple words and they cut Eira to the core.

“As do I.” She protested.

“But you wanted him first. I have always been your second choice.” Again, the words drew blood. Eira drew in a shaky breath and blinked. She didn’t trust herself to look at Loki without crying.

“That might have been different, had you been honest with me.” She protested softly.

“And it might not have been at all. You may have still chosen Thor first. And neither of us will ever know that because of my deception. And though it is my own fault, I doubt our love.” His words crashed over her, all sorrow and regret.

“Why is it not enough that I love you?” She asked.

“Would you choose me over Thor if you knew we both felt the same way for you?” Loki demanded, his tone hard. Eira opened her mouth to answer quickly, but then drew a deep breath and thought on the question.

“Yes.” She finally said. Loki’s fingers unconsciously tightened around hers.

“Truly?” He asked.

“Truly. The magic you wove to deceive me melted away when I learned the truth. Every moment I spent with you, whether it was you truly, or you cloaked as your brother; I know them all. Every moment I felt cherished, loved, driven by passion, swept up in my feelings, I was with you. If had not chosen you, deep in my heart, I would not be here to have this conversation Loki. I would have found my way back to Thor by now.” Eira explained. “I would ask you similar questions.”

“Ask me anything.” He agreed.

“If it were not for Leif, would you be pursuing this marriage?” She was hoping by asking her hardest question first, she would shock the truth out of him.

“Yes. And if I were to be completely truthful, I would tell you that I ensured you would get with child in order to secure our marriage.” He admitted without hesitation. Eira sat up and stared at him.

“What do you mean?” She demanded.

“I had been working with you for months. I knew your cycle as well as I know my sums, there are fluctuations in a woman’s magic throughout the month. I knew exactly when you would be most ready to get with child.” It was a plain accounting.

“You planned to put a child in my womb?” She was astonished.

“You act as though you are surprised, Eira. It was a well-practiced deception. It was deliberate. I wanted you as my wife, and I knew how to make it come to pass. I did not expect our first time together to be successful, but I knew that if we kept joining at the most fertile points in your cycle, eventually I would have success.”

“What if you had not been successful for years? What if the Allfather had finally consented to Thor and I wedding, and it wasn’t until after that I had borne your child?” Eira was horrified.

“The Allfather was never going to consent to Thor wedding you unless, like me, he got you with child. And my brother is far too honourable to make that mistake.” Loki scoffed. Eira put a hand to her head.

“You never even gave me a choice, Loki.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“It is in the past now, Eira. You’ve agreed you love me, that you would choose me over Thor. What does it matter?” He sat and faced her, cross-legged.

“You’ve manipulated me at every turn, Loki. How can I trust you?” She shook her head.

“Trust that I love you. Trust that everything I have ever done has been out of that love for you.” He implored her, taking both of her hands in his own.

“Love is not jealous. Love does not plot.” Eira murmured.

“Unfortunately, love does a multitude of stupid things. Because when we are lost in our passions, we do not think clearly.” Loki disagreed.

“Would you change anything about this deceptive courtship, Loki?” Eira pulled her hands from his and rubbed her eyes.

“Everything.” Loki admitted. “I do not want to spend our lives with you under a cloud of suspicion, wondering if I am truthful with you at every turn. I was deceptive in order to win you, and now I suffer that consequence. It is my nature to pursue mischief, deceit and chaos. If I could change my nature, I would change the way I pursued you. You are everything pure in my life. And I have dirtied it with who I am.”

Eira felt the tears overflow her lashes, and she scrambled across the short distance between them to pull him into her arms.

“Why do you hate yourself so?” She held his head against her chest. His arms snaked around her waist and clung to her.

“I fear that is also my nature.” He murmured into her chest. “Which brings me back to the only honourable thing I have ever done. If you do not wish to wed me, I free you from that obligation.”

“What if the Norns have destined that we are miserable?” Eira asked.

“If they have determined misery as our destiny, it matters not whether we are together or not, we will be miserable.” Loki countered, pulling her across his lap.

“When I was a little girl, my papa would tell me tales about princes and princesses. They always end their tales with happiness forever. I do not foresee a happy conclusion just because we are wed.” Eira admitted, dropping her arms around his neck.

“Nor do I. Happiness like that is for simpletons.” Loki agreed. “I am not promising a marriage that is constant peaceful harmony, Eira. You are a Valkyrie. You will always be independent to a fault. And you are the Midgardian goddess of healing. You will always have responsibilities to others. You are remarkable and intelligent. I am the trickster god. I cause strife and chaos wherever I go. I am moody, and dark. I am sure that I will do more to hurt you. That is why I am offering you your freedom from me.”

“I don’t want it.” Eira’s tone was firm.

“You don’t want it?”

“I don’t want freedom from you. Not yet. You have known everything I am, almost since the moment you met me. And you have wanted me still. You have risked the Allfather’s wrath to have me. I do not agree with your methods, I resent being seen as property to be acquired, but the truth is, I have felt your love. I have felt it in the way your magic curls around my heart. So I don’t want to be free of you. Not right now.” Eira set her jaw.

“Not right now. That would suggest someday you might crave it.” Loki pressed.

“I may. It will be up to you to determine that. If you crave my purity, it is beholden to you to keep me pure. Stop deceiving me. Even if you must deceive the world, stop deceiving me. Respect me, love me, hold me as your wife, your friend and your equal. And I will never request release.” Eira took Loki’s face in her hands as she spoke. His eyes met hers and he nodded.

“I swear it.” 

Eira leaned down and kissed him softly, accepting the truth in his vow.


End file.
